


I Didn't Ask For This

by VidalsQueen



Series: The Moments Between [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Camping, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Haven (Dragon Age), Mages and Templars, Masturbation, NSFW, POV Cullen Rutherford, Perspective shifts, Romance, Sex, Skyhold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 62,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12380907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VidalsQueen/pseuds/VidalsQueen
Summary: I sat down to write this, knowing I wanted to write about the moments not seen in the game. My idea was to write the full romance of Cullen and Trevelyan and it branched out from there. Most of the scenes for this work will be glimpses into their world. I hope to encompass the entire game within these stories, but I won't be rehashing in-game content.Scarlett Trevelyan is a Mage, who has had little to fear from Templars in her past. She knows that a battle is raging between Mages and Templars, but she is not so willing to take sides. Her life in the Ostwick Circle was mundane at best, boring at worst. She isn't prepared for the coming events because she isn't a fighter. Her skills lie in the healing arts, in spirit magic.This story will also be told from both perspectives, Cullen and Trevelyan.





	1. I Didn't Ask For This

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny glimpse into Trevelyan's hesitancy at her new role.

Haven. Yet, another place where they hold me captive. 

I had thought with the Mage rebellion in full force, I would finally be able to escape the captivity of the Circle. I fled when Ostwick’s Circle fell. Fled home. That may seem an exaggeration since most of the people in my Circle simply walked away. 

I didn’t know where to go but seeking out my father seemed like a good idea. I would show up at his doorstep, he would welcome me with open arms and we would be a family again. I was too quick to forget how many of my relatives would have no qualms having me executed on sight. A mage in a family of Templars and Chantry sisters. 

Until my magic was discovered, I had been headed down that road myself. The Noble House of Trevelyan. The most devout House in all of the Free Marches.

Instead, they sent me, as well as a few of my relatives, to the Divine’s Conclave. And for what? So I could fall through the fade with no memory of what happened? So I could be deemed the so-called Herald of Andraste? 

I’m sure my family will love to hear this news.

I flip my hand over examining it for the millionth time. Cassandra had mentioned that the mark was killing me, yet I feel no pain. For the moment, it is a constant reminder that I am at the mercy of yet another institution. 

The Inquisition. Lead by a Seeker, a Spymaster, an Ativan diplomat, whom I could swear I’ve met before, and a blasted Templar. Second in command of the Templars from Kirkwall, no less. I recall the stories. Maker only knows how many of them are true. 

I harbor no ill will toward Templars in general, but it’s hard to discern the motivations of this particular one. When we first met he seemed angry with me. He blamed me for the men he’d lost. 

I tried to play it off, telling him he wasn’t the only one hoping Solas was correct about me, but that only earned me a scowl and a “We’ll see. Won’t we?” 

Then, when I woke from my initial confrontation with the Breach, in the War Room he tells me he’s pleased I survived. His smile seemed genuine. I still don’t know if he meant he was happy a was alive or happy the Inquisition didn’t lose its only means of closing the rifts popping up across Thedas. 

Now, he seeks me out on matters that I feel I have no business dealing with. Then, after asking my opinion, voices his own, as if mine didn’t really matter. When I returned from dealing with Master Dennet and informed him he would need to build watchtowers in order to gain the mounts he wants, he nearly threw a hissy fit about people only wanting to help if we assisted them first. I have done my best to avoid him and the War Room since.

“Herald?” A gruff voice reaches my ears and I slide further back along the roof of my small cabin. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide up here forever, but I was hoping for one moment's peace. 

The door to my cabin opens. 

Without even knocking, really? He never knocks. He’s even walked in on my half-dressed, only my breast band on my upper body. I’m not modest, but it was an unwelcome intrusion, all the same.

“Herald?” The gruff voice questions again. This time muffled from the inside of the cabin itself. “Where is that blasted girl?”

Another voice joins in, this one singsongy and pleasant. “Don’t worry Commander. I will look for her.”

“She is needed in the Chantry. Please, have her join us as soon as you find her.” I peek over the edge of the roof just in time to see the Commander walking away, his hand reaching up to massage the ache I seem to give him away. I follow his path to the Chantry, my eyes never leaving him, which is why I am startled to realize someone else has joined me on the roof.

“The stars are quite beautiful from up here, no.” The singsongy voice states from just beside me.

I turn to her. “So, you found me.” I sigh and turn over, my back flush to the roof underneath me.

“Oh, please. I knew where you were.” She takes a seat beside me on the rooftop.

“I had a friend who used to do such things. She always hated that everyone was so reliant on her, and at times she felt the need to escape. Granted we did travel a lot, and I usually found her dangling on a tree limb, but it wasn’t a hard guess.” She turns to me with a slight grin on her face.

“The Seeker, I assume?” I sit up, pull my knees up to my chin, and wrap my arms around them.

“Oh, goodness no,” she exclaims. “Can you imagine the Seeker climbing trees in the wilderness?” She chuckles at what I assume is the mental image. “No.” She states again as she tries, unsuccessfully, to calm her giggling fit. “My friend Katarina. She had much the same burden that you now possess.” She nudges my legs with her elbow. “She too felt the burden of duty. She too had only just escaped the Circle to find herself captive to a cause.”

I wonder who she may be referring to, but she is the Left Hand of the Divine. Who knows how many powerful mages she’s encountered?

“You know, I used to believe I was chosen, just as some say you are. I thought I was fulfilling His purpose for me, working with the Divine, helping people. She believed me, or maybe she believed that I believed. Either way, she helped me to see, truly, that’s all we can do. Help people, do what needs to be done.” 

She pauses and gazes toward the heavens and I can’t tell if she is praying or simply thinking. 

Then, she turns to face me, a strange glint in her eye. “You remind me of her. Her fire, her wit. She was always a quick thinker, never one to give up hope. She suffered a lot but she always came through it. I imagine you will be the same.” 

It’s my turn to gaze to the heavens. 

Leliana is about to stand when I ask, “And what happened to your friend?”

“She saved all of Ferelden from the Blight, of course.” She states before hopping down onto the crates I had been using as a makeshift ladder.

 

\--------------------------

“We must begin making plans to approach the Templars.” The Commander states from behind the door I have been reluctant to open. “If she has decided to shirk her duties as Herald, we can proceed without her.” He pauses and I can imagine him pacing the room, hand massaging away at the constant ache that resides at the apex of his spine. “I thought you said you had found her.”

I push open the door, not wanting to give the Templar any reason to doubt Leliana. “I am here. What did I miss?” 

“There you are, finally.” The Commander groans. 

I must give him no small amount of stress. 

“Herald,” Leliana starts, “We were just discussing our options for approaching either the Mages or the Templars. After Val Royeaux, we must begin sorting through our options.”

“There are just the two, correct?” I ask, not knowing what other options they could be referencing.

“Yes,” Josephine begins, “However, an invitation to Redcliffe has already been extended to the Inquisition. What we must decide is to accept that invitation or to try and approach the Lord Seeker.”

I know my nervousness at the prospect of approaching the Templars is showing because the Commander grimaces. His glare is penetrating, but I do my best to speak up on the matter, regardless. “With an invitation already extended from one party, shouldn’t we at least attempt to pursue that route.” 

Cullen opens his mouth to speak but I hold my hand up, halting his words for a moment. 

“I know seeking the aid of rebels is not ideal, but an offer has at least been extended, if not cemented, on their end. What truly matters is sealing the Breach, not who our alliances may be.” There, that sounded diplomatic, didn’t it?

I cannot discern the look the Commander darts my direction, but it’s not as sharp as it was moments ago. He seems to be deliberating the idea I set forward. When he speaks, his words are controlled, careful. “As I have said before, I don’t believe more magic is the answer. But…” He sighs, fingers coming up to massage the bridge of his nose. “The Herald makes a good point.” 

All eyebrows raise at this revelation. 

The Commander scowls, but continues, “If we go to Redcliffe, we may find that they are not the answer, we may find they want nothing to do with this, and as our Ambassador has pointed out, we do not yet have a way to approach the Lord Seeker. I do, however, think it best that Cassandra accompanies you. She will be able to evaluate any dangers these rebels may present.”

I nod my assent, glancing over to see Cassandra is doing the same. “Very well. The Seeker and I will head to Redcliffe in the morning. Are there any other matters to discuss?” I look to the faces of my advisors, the Commander simply turns away from my gaze, Josephine shakes her head and gives a slight bow before heading for the door and Leliana tilts her head in a meet me outside gesture. I nod my acknowledgment of the gesture and turn to leave. I don’t know why but before I step out the door, I turn back to the Templar. “Thank you, Commander.” 

He looks up, his eyes meeting mine before he nods. We lock gazes for a moment and I feel a small smile tug at the corner of my lip before exiting the room.


	2. Niceties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett has noticed people like to fuss over her. The Commander is no different. She's tired of his frustration with her. She wants to let Cullen know she doesn't hate Templars. While he checks her provisions for the coming trip, she corners him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give Scarlett and Cullen a more intimate conversation than what was provided in the game.

“The journey to Redcliffe should take less than a week. Are you certain you have the supplies you need?” The Commander shifts my packs once again, as he checks my tack and provisions for the third time.

“Commander, I am aware that I have not done much traveling.” I lean heavily against the post where my horse is reigned. My arms fold around my chest. “Cassandra assisted me in packing. She told me what I would need. There’s no need to fret.” 

In fact, last night the Seeker spent no small amount of time doing just what the Commander is doing now. She packed, double checked, and then rechecked all of my additions to the pack before leaving my quarters long after I had planned to be in bed. I find it frustrating that two people who want my opinion on important matters refuse to accept that a girl from the Circle knows how to travel. I think they forget I was not born in the Circle, that I had a life before being sent away.

Standing there watching the Commander inspect the contents of my packs isn’t quite as irritating as having Cassandra toss things out she didn’t think necessary. His examination seems to be more about ensuring I have necessities, rather than critiquing my choices. 

I must admit I find the Commander’s keen interest in me and mine a little unnerving. And, maybe, a little endearing. 

“Yes, well, we can’t have our Herald dying on us due to starvation or for want of proper medical supplies.” He grins, setting the gold of his eyes dancing playfully.

“Commander did… Did you just make a joke?” My hand covers my mouth in mock surprise.

At this, a flush of embarrassment turns his cheeks an adorable shade of pink. It makes me wonder if the Commander has ever cracked a joke before this moment. A casual conversation with him always devolves into stammering and embarrassed flushes. He is always so uneasy in my presence. At first, I thought this to be a characteristic of the man himself, but he seems confident and educated when speaking with others. In the War Room, he has no trouble putting forth battle-strategy and stating his opinion on matters of import. I quickly came to the conclusion that the Commander, for all his battle savvy, was somewhat frightened of me. I have, in recent days tried to alleviate his fears, to no avail. 

He turns back to the bags. His fingers sliding over the leather straps to ensure they are secure, nearly refusing to look at me. 

I place my hand over his constantly moving ones. “If you are so worried, why not join us?” I tilt my head, trying to capture his eye but he won’t look at me. “We could show the Mages that a Mage and Templar can be friendly.” My joke does not go over as well as his. He pulls his hands from mine. One reaching up to stroke the back of his neck. I wonder what I did to earn it that time.

“I have many matters to attend to here. I am more than certain the Seeker will suffice.” He bends to check the horse's shoes, nodding his approval when the task is complete. He stands and faces me, flush now gone, rubbing the dirt away from his gloved hands.

“Just not so certain she knows how to pack properly?” This time I am rewarded with a crooked grin. I can’t help but notice how much younger he looks when he isn’t scowling. 

“You know, you should smile more. It looks good on you.” Maker, Scarlett. Where did that come from? I cough, to dislodge the words from my throat, but there is no doubt he heard them.

His cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson before he clears his throat. “On the road to Redcliffe, there will be two forward camps. At both, you will be able to resupply and have something better to sleep on than a bedroll on the ground.”

“A cot will be nice, though a bed would be better, I won’t complain. I will just be happy to be breathing the open air. I honestly can’t recall the last time I did that. My family ordered a carriage for the trip to the Conclave. I was crammed in with my cousins for the entirety of the trip.” I relax into the post, closing my eyes and taking in the sun beating down on me, the cool breeze drifting down from the mountains. I know I must be grinning like an idiot but I can’t help it. This trip will be the closest to freedom I have known in many years. 

“You have been going on missions for a little while now.” He states, breaking me from my reverie.

“I suppose I have, but this time I am not walking into battle. Simply a meeting of the minds.” A meeting with the Grand Enchanter, no less. I must admit, I idolize Fiona a bit. She was key in assisting the Mage’s freedom efforts. When word reached our Circle that the Mages were free to walk away and that the Templars had abandoned the Chantry, stories of her and of Anders spread like wildfire. There isn’t a Mage in existence that doesn’t owe both a debt of gratitude. 

At his scowl, I realize I may have said some of what I was thinking out loud. 

In an effort to bring us, and our newfound civility back on track, I push myself away from the post and focus on something else. “Not that I don’t anticipate some trouble on the road. I’m not that naive.” 

I’m going to meet my people on their terms. I can’t expect a Templar to understand. I can’t help but hope this will mean a new beginning for Mages. We can take them on as allies and all of Thedas can see the good magic can do. They can help us seal the Breach. We can stand in a united front for the first time in ages. So many people have feared us for so long and now we have a chance to set those fears aside.

His scowl softens but doesn’t quite leave his lips. His brows crease together and his hands find their way to the pommel of his sword, an action that always makes me a little uneasy. “Might I make one request, Herald?” 

I know my body has gone rigid, on the defensive and I try to relax, making my next words not hold the weight I am feeling settled over me. “Depends on what you are requesting, Commander.”

He seems nervous as if whatever he may say won’t go over well with me. “Don’t rush an alliance with the Mages. Remember, you said yourself, this would just be a meeting. One that would give us time to meet with the Templars as well.”

I know he assumes I hold a low opinion of Templars. It is a natural reaction for Mages to hate them without provocation. Most assume that a Mage needs no provocation where a Templar is concerned. In most cases, they would be correct. I know the stories of his Order. I know the stories of Kirkwall. In the beginning, I wanted to despise the Templar standing before me. The stories of his Knight-Commander were enough to give any Mage nightmares.

I want to reassure him that I harbor no hatred for him. I want to explain why I don’t feel the need to shut down or decimate the Templars. “Commander, I want you to know, my time spent with the Templars wasn’t horrible. I harbor no hatred toward them.” I want to place a reassuring hand on his arm, but before my hand closes the distance, I pull back. He has never liked when I touched him in the past, always pulling away, putting distance between us. Once, at the War Table, I moved closer to him to get a better idea of where he was gesturing to on the map. As my side brushed against him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He recovered quickly, but Leliana and Josephine both began giggling uncontrollably. 

“I do know of the abuses elsewhere but I did not see the atrocities that befell Kirkwall, nor did I see Templars abusing power.” My lower lip sinks behind my teeth. I know he must be thinking about his time spent in Kirkwall because he casts his eyes aside. 

Not wanting to leave our conversation on a sour note, I add. “My Circle was sedate, sometimes boring even. In the Ostwick circle, it wasn’t unheard of for Mages and Templars to have relations. Friendships form when people are shoved in close quarters.” 

“Templars are meant to keep a certain distance from their charges.” He states, but it doesn’t have any conviction behind it. 

His statement makes me wonder if this is how he views me. His charge. Am I just another Mage tossed into his care? Does he feel the need to distance himself from me because someday he may be forced to ensure I do not become an abomination? I watch as a host of emotions plays over the Commander’s tense features. 

Instead of giving in to those thoughts, I press on. “I’ve only ever seen Templars as they were meant to be. They watched over our Harrowings, ensured no abominations were found within the Circle, and they let us be. I know at times you don’t want to trust me because I am a Mage, but I have always been true to my word. I’ve never had a reason not to be.”

This strikes an unexpected chord within him. His eyes dart to mine and he schools his countenance into steel reserve. “Herald, if I have made you feel uncomfortable, or out of place for any reason, I apologize. I’ve seen the suffering magic can inflict. I’ve treated Mages with distrust because of it – at times without cause. That was unworthy of me. I have tried not to do so here.” He seems to want to continue that thought but stops.

I am on the verge of reassuring him I am not a threat, when Cassandra steps around the corner of the stables, reigns in hand, leading her mount to where the Commander and I rest in tense silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared, the next scene is Cullen!!


	3. Images on Loop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has spent the last few months trying to keep Scarlett out of his head. All of that changes when he overhears a lewd conversation in the tavern at Haven.
> 
> This is my experiment with 3rd person. I have never written anything like it, preferring 1st. This is also the first time I have written from a male perspective, so any comments would be appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your first glimpse into why this work has a mature rating. 
> 
> Naughty Cullen ;)

Cullen was exhausted. He had been on the brink of setting his last missive on fire, holding it just above the candle’s flame, before deciding it was probably a bad idea. The ceaseless war reports, the updates on training, the countless missives that landed on his desk, all were adding up to an extreme headache. He knew when he took this job that the title would come with a large amount of responsibility and that he thought he could handle. What he couldn’t handle were the petty squabbles, the unending debates, the constant bickering of anyone and everyone around him. When he took this position, he believed he was setting himself up to regain some control over himself and the Order he abandoned. Now, it seemed that goal would be forever out of reach. 

Cassandra had come to Kirkwall, not in search of him, but of Hawke. The Mage who’s boyfriend blew up Kirkwall’s Chantry. The Mage who, for years, had to try to make him see the injustices in his city, in his Order. The Mage who was a cousin to the Warden of his past. 

He’d thought of Hawke and the Warden more often lately. 

Hawke had insisted that Mages were people like anyone else, but then his mind would always go back to Ferelden. He would think about the blood magic, the demon summoning, the time he spent held in a magical cage. Those Mages were monsters. 

But, he couldn’t think of all that happened there without thoughts of the Warden. 

When blood magic began cropping up all over Kirkwall, it frightened him. But when all was said and done, there was one Mage who didn’t frighten him. One Mage who actually gave him hope.

I let Hawke walk away that day. I even let Anders walk away. We stood there, face-to-face and I backed off.

Cullen had decided then, he was done with taking sides. Two of the greatest women he’d ever known were Mages. He couldn’t continue to think of them as monsters. Yes, blood magic existed. Yes, it needed to be quelled, but there had to be a better way. Templars were meant to be a balm against the darkness, not some tyrannical Order set on destroying magic. Scarlett had said that her Circle was like this. “The Templars as they were meant to be”. Her words had struck a deeper chord within him than he had realized at the time.

Did he hate Mages? No. He hated blood magic. Did he hate magic? No. Without magic, who would have stopped the Blight? What’s the old saying, “Fight fire with fire”? Without magic, where would healers clinics be? Without magic where would he be? What would he be? How would they fight what they were facing now?

He couldn’t take it anymore, locked away in his tent, missives, and reports spilling into his lap. He needed to get out. He needed to do something to take his mind off everything, if only for a moment.

He didn’t know what made him step into the tavern that night. He had thought, time spent with his men -- away from the training grounds -- might be good for him. He even thought a mug of ale might relax him enough to want to fall asleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he drank. As a Templar, a clear head was vital. 

He sat down at a small table in the corner, back to the wall so he could take in everyone in the room. A few of the men greeted him but no one joined him. He could only assume that the men were unsure if they should join their commanding officer in drink. So, he sat there, sipping his ale and watching the drunken hilarity ensue around him. Men and women were playing Wicked Grace, singing along with the Tavern’s bard, and passing around cigarillos. There was even a couple getting fairly handsy in opposite corner.

He finished his drink and was about to leave when a conversation caught his attention.

“Have you seen her out there practicing with her staff? She looks like some dark deity.” 

“Have you seen the ass on that woman? You know she likes to go outside the gates and pick elfroot. I can’t stop myself from trying to catch a glimpse as she bends over.” 

“And what about her tits? They are so big. I just want to plant my face in them and give ‘em a good shake.” 

The men started chuckling.

“I’m telling you, if that woman offered, I’d bend her over a barrel and fuck her till she saw stars.”

“Here, here!” The men clinked their glasses together.

Cullen was unaware he had even risen from his chair until he was at their table. As the men noticed him, one began choking on his beer. The rest of the men refused to meet the Commander’s eyes. 

“If I ever hear any of you speak of the Herald in such a way again, you will be praying to the Maker that you had never been born.” He stalked off, slamming the door to the tavern. 

Outside, he inhaled the cool mountain air. His skin flush with his anger but his mind is no longer on the men inside. Every time one of them spoke they seemed to conjured the images in his own head. He remembered the time she had accidentally knocked a piece from the War Room table and bent to pick it up. His eyes had followed the curve of her cheeks to her shapely thighs. He was sure Leliana noticed. There wasn’t much the Spymaster didn’t notice. She grinned at him as he turned to her and away from the shapely Mage.

He remembered the time he had walked in on her with nothing but her breast band covering her top half, how the curves of her large breasts were barely contained within. Scarlett had barely even flinched. She hadn’t moved to cover herself. Instead, she turned to him, eyes defiant, as if daring his eyes to roam any further.

Now, he had a new image to go along with the others. The thought of Scarlett, bare-assed, bending over a barrel, beckoning him to enter her. He could just imagine her full bottom lip sinking below her teeth -- an infuriating habit she had when anything pleased her -- her skin soft and warm, her moans of pleasure as he sank his shaft deep within her. He imagined her reaching her hand back for him, as she tried to bring his body even closer. He knew he should stop thinking of her this way. He was a Templar, and she a Mage. There would be no way she would even entertain the idea. And how would it look if she did accept? Her position within the Inquisition would be compromised, leaving the newer recruits to entertain the same ideas as the men he had just left. Yet, he couldn’t stop the images played on a continuous loop in his mind. 

He makes his way back to his tent, with another forming uncomfortably in his trousers. He tries to adjust but people keep walking past. If he is too obvious, people will catch on. If he doesn’t hurry, people will know for sure.

When finally inside, he sheds his armor. Before he can even lay down, his manhood demands to be relieved. As the loop plays in his mind he strokes himself, slow at first but the images demand more. His grip tightens and his pace quickens. Soon he his spent, the evidence of it coating his hand and his blanket. 

Maker, what am I going to do now? I was nervous enough around her before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore Cullen, but I feel in some aspects he's just like any other man. This was meant to show that. I also liked that this showed him losing a minute amount of the control he cherishes so much.


	4. Girl's Night at Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of brandy and conversation has Scarlett wondering about the Commander's reactions to her presence.

The first night of camp was quite enjoyable. As everyone began setting up their tents, I started a fire, much to Sera’s discomfort. She actually jumped away from me and it gave Cassandra an endless source of amusement. She had been goading her for some time when we all finally sat down to relax and unwind. It was nice to see the Seeker laugh. Though laugh may be a strong word. It was more of a chuckling hum than anything.

“You know, you shouldn't make fun of people being scared of magic just because you can scare them back,” Sera states sourly. She folds her legs under her as she settles down by the fire. She picks up the bowl of stew she had set aside while she made herself comfortable, wrapping her fingers around it to soak up the warmth. 

All of us follow suit, taking up a place around the fire.

“I take it you think I’m frightening?” Cassandra’s lip quirks up in a satisfied smile. She seems to enjoy being intimidating. It causes me to roll my eyes, but her focus is on Sera and it goes unnoticed. 

“Not naked.” Sera begins, returning Cassandra’s grin. 

This causes the Seeker’s grin to shift into a slow scowl. Her body stiffens. None in this group are modest. We’ve seen each other’s bodies, but Sera seems to take a special pleasure in making others uncomfortable. 

“You’re well fit.” Sera wiggles her eyebrows at the Seeker. “But all armored up and fierce? What do you think some stable boy sees?” She flings stew, little droplets splattering onto the fire, as she gestures with her spoon.

Sera must have hit a nerve with her question, because Cassandra looks hurt, if only for a moment. I wonder if this is something she’s heard before. In a careful and controlled voice, Cassandra responds. “A Seeker on the side of righteousness.”

Sera chooses not to comment on the Seeker bit and addresses her initial question. “Here's what I learned in the alleys: "Ahh, Mages! Ahh, Templars! Ahh, Tevinters! Aaah, hungry!" When you're little, everything is "Ahh!"

Intent on shifting gears Cassandra turns to Vivienne, who has somehow managed to remain superbly clean throughout our journey, the white of her tunic standing out in stark relief on her dark skin. “I assume your parents were Riviani, Vivianne?”

“They were merchants, originally from Dairsmuid... or so I'm told.” The pompous tone of her voice falters for only a moment before she recovers. She straightens her back and turns her eyes to Cassandra as if the subject isn’t a touchy one.

The Seeker clears her throat, sensing the shift in Vivienne’s mood, but presses on. “You don’t remember?”

“I was taken to the Ostwick Circle when I was very young. So far as I'm concerned, my life began there.” She waves off the subject, but at the mention of Ostwick’s Circle, she needn’t have bothered because Sera and Cassandra’s eyes suddenly shift in my direction.

I don’t know why, but I have the sudden feeling I am under extreme scrutiny. I shift uncomfortably as I force myself to appear unaffected by their mutual gazes. I open my mouth to say something but words don’t leave my mouth. Instead, I let out a heaving sigh. I recover quickly, deciding that if we are going to discuss my past, I would need to grab the bottle of brandy I had stowed away in my pack. Alcohol, the great equalizer. If we are going to sit here and pile uncomfortable conversation over an uncomfortable conversation, we were all going to need some fortifying strength. 

“I’ll be right back.” I pop up, retrieve said bottle and four traveling mugs, then resume my place by the fire.

Sera’s eyes widen as she realizes she is about to be offered free alcohol, but Cassandra and Vivienne don’t seem to share her enthusiasm. 

“Herald, do you truly think this wise?” Cassandra asks as she gestures to the now open bottle in my hands. 

“When Vivienne mentioned Ostwick’s Circle, you all looked at me as if I was about to reveal some dark secret from my past. So, if I am going to be sharing anything tonight, it will be drinking with friends before gossip.” I didn’t mean for it to sounds like a command but I couldn’t help it. I filled each mug to about a quarter and passed them around the circle. To no one's surprise, Sera’s was gone before the rest of us took our first sip. I gladly refilled her glass but reminded her to go easy or she would regret it in the morning. She made a “pfft” sound but took her second glass a little slower.

“So, what would you like to know about the woman now known as the Herald of Andraste?” I ask with more flair than was necessary, but it brought slight smiles to all three of my companions. 

For over an hour the three women fired question after question at me. Where was I from originally? What was my Circle like? Everything from, what my favorite color is, to how I spent my downtime in the Circle. I informed them that my favorite color is amber, my favorite food, a dish I learned to make myself, Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie. They learned that I have an affinity for coffee and pastries. My downtime in the Circle was spent reading and cooking, two things that gave me great joy. They commented on how the stew they were currently eating was quite good. It was a fun and enjoyable conversation for the most part until Vivienne asked me about the Templars.

“My dear, you must have an opinion about Templars. I know during my time in Ostwick they were pleasant conversationalists, most having studied a great deal of history. I made many friends while there. I am intrigued to know if you had a similar experience.” 

“Yeah, Templars, great at conversation.” I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the three women giggled. We were all feeling the effects of the fine drink now. They knew my comment was about the Commander.

Vivienne’s view of Templars is widely known. She respects them and feels they were a necessary tool in the Chantry’s arsenal. 

I try to clear my head and give a coherent answer but the brandy is making my thoughts swim. This is too deep a forest to be foraging through when I am most obviously inebriated. I want to state that I have no opinion on the matter, but that would be a lie. Plus, if Cassandra had been talking to Josephine, she might have let slip that I had a crush on one of my former guards. 

Finally, I decided it best to let my companions know the truth. It may be the brandy talking but I want to get it off my chest. To have it out in the open. I can’t stop the giggle that slips past my lips as I begin speaking. “To be perfectly honest, I’ve never had a problem with Templars. They were always there, but I never felt constricted or worried around them. In fact, there was this one Templar in my Circle. Tall, well-built, tanned skin, luscious lips. He would be with me most days and we struck up a friendship. We would read together, joke, take walks in the gardens. I knew he was there to guard me, or against me if need be, but toward the end, it felt like more. I wanted him. I wanted to be with him.”

“No!” Cassandra exclaims, hand drawn to her mouth, which was hanging open in a slight “O”.

“You’re shittin’!” Sera proclaimed, at almost the same moment.

I look to Vivienne, the only one who didn’t burst out in exclamations. A knowing smile plays across her lips and I feel heat rising in my cheeks. “Our Commander is tall, well-built, with luscious lips and eyes that just so happen to be your favorite color.”

The brandy catches in my throat, burning a path up my nose. “I… uh… I suppose so. He does have that wicked scar that makes it impossible not to stare at his lips. But have you heard the way he speaks to me? The man is so frightened of me that he can’t string two words together unless it’s about a mission.”

“Maybe, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you, especially when he thinks no one is looking.” Vivienne plucks at her clothing, removing some unseen offense to her perfection. 

“What? No. The Commander is not interested in me. He doesn’t like Mages. He’s made that point quite clear.” I could feel the heat rising in my neck and cheeks. Why should this bother me?   
“Not true,” Cassandra says. “You wouldn’t be the first Mage he was attracted to. Most people don’t know this, but the Commander had a crush on the first Mage he was assigned to. Plus, he likes to stare at your ass when you bend over. He thinks we don’t notice, but you have got to stop dropping things and bending over the table in the War Room.”

The heat in my body continues to rise. My armor feels suddenly too tight. I’d never considered that the Commander would think of me in that way. I had only been attempting to make our conversations more civil, less heated. I guess I had inquired about his vows. It was merely curiosity. Did he take that as me flirting?

“Oh, don’t look so uncomfortable, dear. I was only stating an observation. The Commander has too much control to act on it anyway. Unless you make a move, he won’t do a thing about it.” Vivienne’s smirk and the look in her eyes, tells me she is hoping I will. 

I do not like Cullen! 

Woah, Magey! No one said that. They are telling you he likes you. They aren’t assuming you like him.

I continue to argue that point with myself for the remainder of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write tipsy Cassandra. I have a feeling if she could let loose she'd be a pretty fun chica.


	5. Living in Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter arrives for Cullen. 
> 
> I wanted to show that the memories of Kinloch Hold are never far from the Commander's mind, to show just how little it took to send him back there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my take on what happened to Cullen in the Circle Tower.

It had been over a week, but there had been no word from Redcliffe. Leliana’s scouts had yet to report of even seeing the Herald near the city. 

Cullen runs his fingers through his hair, tugging the strands a bit to relieve some of the pressure building in his head.

Where are they?

He was just about to turn in for the night when a scout appeared, pulling back the flap of his tent. 

“Missive for you, Ser.” The scout proffered the rolled parchment.

“Just leave it on the desk. I will get to it in the morning.” Cullen nearly growled.

“It’s… uh… It’s from the Herald, Ser.” The scout tumbled over his words. 

Cullen never really understood why many of the new recruits harbored a deep-seated fear of him. His tone simply brokered no argument. 

He took the rolled parchment. He waited for the scout to leave before lying on his cot and unrolling the letter.

Dear Commander,  
I am deeply sorry. I know that before I left, I made you a promise.  
I know that you may not believe me, and honestly, who could blame you. The situation in Redcliffe is much worse than any of us could have ever anticipated. We arrived, only to be greeted by an elven slave from Tevinter. I am unsure what has occurred, but I met a Mage by the name of Dorian. He promises to aid us in bringing down the Magister who has taken over Redcliffe and the Rebel Mages.  
They are using time magic here. Something that shouldn’t even be possible. The Magister’s son, Felix, has even mentioned some sort of Tevinter cult. They are calling themselves the Venatori. He doesn’t know why but assures us the cult is obsessed with me. Well, I don’t know if assure is the right word.  
Please, consider what this could mean for the Mages, for all of Thedas, if the Magister is allowed to stay in Redcliffe. I know you want me to meet with the Templars, and truly, I wished the same, but we must help my people. We cannot let them fall slaves to Tevinter.  
All I ask is that you consider what I have just said. As I said before, I have never gone back on my word and didn’t intend to this time. I do not wish to see the Rebel Mages fall into enemy hands. Think of the consequences. Tevinter would have full control over most of the magic in Thedas. This we cannot allow to happen.

Your Herald,  
Scarlett Trevelyan

Cullen clutched the missive in his hand. She was going to offer an alliance to the Mages. She had sworn to him, she would do no such thing. The last thing everyone needed was to have more magic brought into this already frightening situation. His mind was reeling. The cot no longer offered any reprieve from the memories that plagued him. 

Uldred’s Mages had come into the barracks, pulling sleeping Templars from their beds, restraining them with blood magic. The ones who fought back were killed on sight. The spells these Mages were using were unlike anything the Circle had seen before. There was no dispel that could repeal their magic, there was no way to fight the binding restraints. They were led to the top of the tower and trapped within a magical cage. None of us knew how long we were in there, but the mages would come, and one by one, our numbers diminished, until only I remained. 

During the day, for I could only assume it was daytime, the mages prodded my mind, trying to find what weakness they could, but I had only one. Maybe this was why they kept me alive. Maybe this was why I wasn’t turned into an abomination like the others. 

I loved her, and they knew it.

At night, when the Mages had their fill, they sent a desire demon to my cell. She would not be the razor-clawed, nude demon, that all Templars knew. She would be her. She would be Katarina. When she first came to me, I had thought only of salvation. She was the most powerful and clever mage I had ever known. I remember taking steps toward her, wanting to fall into her arms. 

The last time I had seen her, was just before she left the Circle. She had wanted some alone time with me. In fact, she insinuated that she wanted more from me. I remember her blue eyes twinkling with delight, her long blonde hair brushing against my armor as she raised herself onto the tips of her toes. She knew what I thought of her and she was ready and willing to make good on it. Her breath skimmed across my neck, as she whispered, “Maybe we should get to know each other better.” And, what did I do? I ran. I ran from a woman, this woman, who had only wanted to care for me. 

It wasn’t until I had placed my hands in hers, that I realized, her eyes were not blue, but red. But, by then, it was too late. 

Using Katarina’s voice, the demon spoke to me. “Oh, Cullen, how I have missed you.” The demon purred. “I have been gone for so long and have thought of only you every single day, every night.”

Her clothing melted away. Katarina stood naked before me. In my heart, I knew this was the demon and not her, but at the sight, my body responded. I leaned in, pressing my armored body into her naked form. She stood on her tiptoes, once again, and this time I didn’t hesitate. I devoured her mouth, feeding on her like some animal. 

This went on for a few nights. The torture in the morning, and then an all-new brand of torture at night. I don’t know what made me begin to fight against the desire demon, but I knew in my heart, it wasn’t really her. It was empty. 

When next she came to me, she held out her hand. I didn’t take it. She frowned. “Cullen, I have missed you. I have thought of only you. I want only you.” She purred. 

“Be gone, Demon!” I shouted and closed my eyes, not wanting to see the form of my desire morph into some razor-clawed, horned veilspawn. 

To my surprise, the demon had vanished. When I looked up, the only thing I saw was the magical barrier holding me in place. For nights upon nights, the demon would come, always nude, always Katarina. 

Then one day, the demon came in full armor, surrounded by people I had never seen before. I tried to banish her, as I had for countless days before, but she wouldn’t leave. 

“Cullen… Oh, Cullen.” She began. Always beseeching him. Always with her hand extended in comfort.

“Cullen, it’s me. It’s Katarina.” 

The tenderness of her voice pulled at my heart. The way her eyes roamed over me, examining me, looking to see if I was hurt.

I remember mumbling something about the demon tempting me with the one thing I had always wanted but could never have and then I remember the startled expression on her face. I remember the side glance to the warrior at her side. I remember the elven rouge at her back, sniggering and saying something about all men seem to want “our Warden”. 

That was when it hit me. This was the real thing. Katarina was really here, they had called her Warden. And judging by the look shared between her and the warrior, my time with her had passed. 

She crouched down in front of me then, pushing at the barrier in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Cullen. I should have come sooner. If I would have known what was happening…” her voice trailed off and tears sprang to her eyes. Her sparkling blue eyes. She cared for him. This woman standing before me, truly cared for me.

Her hand remained on the barrier between us. I thought of my nights spent with her. No, not her, the demon. A wail assailed my ears, and it lasted longer than I’d like to admit, but the piercing voice was my own.

They stood before me for some time, deliberating what their next move should be. Katarina demanded they find a way to break him from his cell. The others knew there were more important matters to deal with. She wouldn’t hear of it, screaming that the man in the cell was her friend. That I was her friend. 

The warrior beside her seemed to sense her growing panic and placed his hand on the naked small of her back. It was then, I noticed, she wore Dalish styled armor. Her middle was bare, the armor exposing the taut muscles that now resided there. I had seen her naked form before but there were new lines of muscle in her abdomen that the demon didn’t know about. I could feel my desire rising as I thought of doing to her what I had done to the demon so many nights ago. 

What finally broke the tirade of images in my mind, were the warriors next words. 

“So, this is the man I must thank for you not hating Templars?” His lip quirked in a sickeningly sweet smile. Oh, how I wanted to rip the smile from his face.

My anger got the better of me then, and I know my next words were harsh. I told them to leave me be and go deal with Uldred. I told them that the Mages had all gone insane and that they should kill them all. I knew I was asking her to kill her friends. I knew I was casting her in their lot, but I couldn’t think beyond losing her. I didn’t care what happened to the other Mages. She was already lost to me. Lost to me to another Templar. 

When Cullen finally came back to the present, he realized he had been ready to do the same with Scarlett. Ready to cast her into the lot with the rest of the Rebel Mages, but she was not a part of that. She had been at the Temple. She had come to partake in the Divine’s Peace. She wanted a peaceful solution. He had to remember that. He had to keep in mind that she had promised to seek out an audience with the Templars. 

He decided to read her missive again. She had said she was sorry, but for what? She had said nothing about an alliance. In fact, she said nothing of meeting with the Rebel Mages at all. The only things in the letter were her pleas for assistance. She wasn’t telling him that she had decided this course of action, she was begging him to see this was the only course of action. 

He must have stared at the letter for ages before realizing how she had chosen to start her letter and finish it. Dear Commander, Your Herald. Maybe he was reading too much into it, or maybe he had read too many missives chock full of demands. What did “Dear” mean? Was she being polite? Did she consider him dear? Was this a part of her plea? Normally, he would have just written it off, but she then signed the missive, Your Herald. Not, The Herald of Andraste, which would be her title now. Not simply, her name. Your Herald. 

And why would she not send this missive to Leliana? 

Because the words in this missive were meant for him and him alone. This wasn’t her formal missive to the Inquisition. This was a letter she sat down and wrote to him, not as the Commander, but to someone she had been trying to forge a better relationship with. This was her plea to the Templar, to the man she knew he once was. 

A new realization dawned on him, she was coming back. Likely already on her way here, and this was something she meant to discuss personally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like putting characters in compromising and/or awkward situations to see how they will react. I hope you like the next story because I had a lot of fun writing it.


	6. Wounded Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but I thought it would be funny to put them in another awkward situation.

Cullen hadn't heard the anticipated cry of trumpets upon the Herald’s arrival. What he did hear was the clomping drumbeat of their horse's hooves striking the ground. He had heard the raised voices of those just outside the city rousing to greet the incoming party. There seemed to be quite a commotion ensuing just outside his tent, but when they had arrived he was asleep and only in his smalls. Leaping to his feet, he pulled on his tunic and trousers and was just about to step outside when the cold bite of the Frostbacks hit him full force. He considered just throwing his cloak over his shoulders but decided to go ahead and put his armor on. No sense in rushing around only to freeze as the Herald debriefed him.

As he was putting on the last of his armor, a scout had poked his head into his tent and announced that she had indeed returned. Before he could ask where to find the Herald, the scout had disappeared into the night.

He wrapped his fur-lined cloak around his body and headed for the Chantry. Sure he would find the Herald debriefing Leliana and Josephine in the War Room, he pushed his way inside. The room was dark, not a single candle lit. He heard voices drifting into the room, but none were any he had hoped to hear. Where was Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra? Where was the Herald?

He poked his head into Josephine’s office to find a bleary-eyed elf. 

“Commander, has the Herald brought in new items to study?” The elf asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning. Her hair was a tangled mess and her tunic seemed to be one she had slept in.

“I have not yet spoken with the Herald, but I’m sure whatever she may have found can wait until morning.” He held open the door, waiting for the elf to make her way out of the room but she didn’t move.

“The Ambassador said I should always be available when the Herald…”

Cullen cut off her words. “Go back to bed. Whatever she needs doing can wait until morning.”

The elf was slow to acquiesce, but she eventually stumbled her way out of the door and back to her own quarters. Cullen had to wonder if this elf was once a slave. Who would wake in the middle of the night just to see to her ladies affairs? 

But wasn’t that what he was doing now? 

Leaving that thought behind, he quickened his pace to the doors of the Chantry. He pushed the heavy wooden door open only to find Sera and Varric outside bowed over in a fit of laughter. 

“Andraste’s tits, Varric. It was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. The bandits had us pinned down. Cassandra was bearing down on some piss bag, when out of the corner of her eye, Scar saw the Archer. She cast that protective spell of hers but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She raced to Cassandra, throwing herself between her and the arrow…”

Cullen didn’t hear any more of the conversation. Scarlett had taken an arrow for Cassandra. He raced to the healers quarters, accidentally shoving some man who came between him and his destination. In his haste, he nearly tripped over a crate between the healer’s quarters and one of the other cabins. Luckily he caught himself before he could face plant into the snow-covered ground. 

Cassandra was standing just outside, shaking her head and smirking. He had thought she’d seen his near fall but she wasn’t even looking in his direction. He closed the space to the door in mere seconds.

“Commander, don’t…” Cassandra warned, but she was too late. He could hear Scarlett’s muffled “OW, ow, ow” from the other side.

He pushed the door open. The sight before him had him standing ramrod straight, his mouth going dry and his fists balled at his sides. Scarlett lay, bent over the bed, the top of her leggings, completely sheared away. Her taut, round bottom completely exposed. She had a gash that ran the length of one cheek, but that was not what held his attention. Her tanned rear end was presented to Adan. His hands working over her flesh to seal the wound. His throat tightened as she turned to look at him.

“Getting an eyeful, Commander. Might as well, everyone else has.” Her words were playful but he could hear the hint of embarrassment behind them. 

“I… “ He couldn’t find the words. He tried again. “I had heard you were shot. I only came to check on you. To ensure you were alright.” He knew he should leave but he couldn’t make his feet move. It was as if she’d cast a binding spell on him.

“Hey, how about grabbing me the salve off that table over there,” Adan grumbled, nodding to the table next to Cullen.

Finally, he peeled his eyes away from Scarlett’s to look at the table in question. A small blue container was resting in the center. He assumed this to be the salve. He handed the jar to the healer and watched as he dipped his fingers into the shiny ointment. Adan then spread the ointment along the gash. Scarlett moaned as the numbing relief of the herbs set in, causing Cullen to shift uncomfortably on his feet.

“You’re lucky,” stated the healer. “It only got your fleshy bits. Not too deep.”

She snorted. It was a sound he’d never heard her make before. Undignified and sort of... cute, given her current predicament. “Why is it, I can heal most wounds on other people with a touch of my hand? But when it comes to a gash on my ass, I am left bending over a bed letting some man slather goop on me?” 

It takes Cullen a moment to realize the question is directed at him. He squirms under her questioning gaze. “I… uhh… I would imagine, it has something to do with Mana being summoned from the Mages lifeforce.” Wasn’t that what the Order had taught him? He couldn’t remember.

“Huh. I never really thought of it that way.” She nods her head as she mulls the thought over. “Makes sense.” She sighs and rests her head on a pillow. She suddenly looks very tired, like all of the energy has drained from her body. 

“Well, with your particular abilities, Herald, this should be healed up in no time. Are you ready for me to stitch up the worst bits?” Adan reached for the needle and Scarlett closed her eyes, bracing for the pain.

Cullen turned to go, but the Herald’s voice called him back. “Cullen, would you mind staying with me. Talk me through. Give me something else to focus on.” At his hesitation, she added, “Please.”


	7. Tipping Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Scarlett had an uncomfortable discussion, under uncomfortable circumstances. Now they must decide what the Inquisition will do. Will she still fulfill her promise to meet with the Templars, or is the situation in Redcliffe too immediate to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get heated.

“Herald, you assured me before you left that you would meet with the Templars before cementing an alliance with the mages. I know we discussed this last night, but I am still not happy with this decision!” The Commander paces the War Room, mussing his perfectly coiffed hair. 

Before I can respond, Cassandra intervenes. “The Magister has taken over Redcliffe. Do we truly wish to stand here debating Mages and Templars while a hostile foreign power takes up residence in one of Ferelden’s most formidable strongholds?”

He turns on Cassandra. “Yes. One of Ferelden’s most formidable strongholds, as you just said. We do not have the manpower to take down the castle.” His fierce gaze lands on me. “You must recognize the futility of this.”

“Commander, I understand your frustration. It’s true. I did make a promise, but we couldn’t have known what was happening in Redcliffe. You are asking me to abandon my people to Tevinter. They will be slaves.” I try to keep my rising ire from my voice but the gash on my bottom pulsing angrily isn’t helping. I shift uncomfortably trying to find a less painful stance. It’s hard to argue, or even think clearly when the linen of your trousers seems intent on pulling the stitches from one of your most tender places.

All eyes fall on the Tevinter in the room. “Alexius’ time magic is not only punching a hole in time. It will eventually unravel the world. He must be stopped. I was his apprentice. I know what he is capable of.” Dorian shifts uncomfortably under the Templar’s scrutiny but he refuses to stand down. “You don’t need to take the castle, but you do need a way past his magic. I can help with that.”

I reach out to Dorian, giving his arm a squeeze, my thanks and my support. During our return trip from Redcliffe, we’d become fast friends. He was easy to talk to and had so much to say. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and that was a welcome change from the company I usually kept. 

Now, he stands facing down the Commander I’ve always been a little too afraid to provoke. I’ve done my best to make our relationship a companionable one, but my efforts always end up being flung to the wayside on matters of Mages vs. Templars.

“I still think a meeting with the Templars would be more beneficial. With them on our side, we could deal with the Mages in Redcliffe.” 

At his words, my anger took on a whole new form. The beast rose within me. We had discussed all of this last night. We hadn’t come to any real solution, but I thought we had landed on a better understanding of the situation. Apparently not. “Deal with the Mages? Deal with the Mages! And just how do you propose we deal with the Mages, Commander?” My anger, no longer in check, grows to fill the room. Leliana and Josephine share a startled look between them. Cassandra glares at Cullen, her look says it all. Now, look at what you’ve done. 

He starts to speak, but I cut him off. “Do you really think I would allow you to march your Templars into a town filled with already frightened Mages? Do you honestly think I could stand by as your Order decimated what was left of my people? Do you think so little of me?” I don’t remember moving but I end up toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose, with Cullen. “If you think for one second, that I would do that to my people, then you know nothing about me. I may not have had the experiences that most Mages have had with the Templars, but I will be damned if I let a single one of your Order hurt one of mine again.” So much for trying to build a relationship with this man. 

My anger has reached its tipping point. If I don’t control myself, I fear flames will begin to shoot out of my hands and pin the Commander to the wall. I make an undignified gesture to the Commander before storming out of the room. I can’t take this, I can’t take him anymore.

\------------

For hours, I paced the small interior of my cabin, but it did nothing to cool my anger. We had talked about this. We had discussed my reasons for wanting to help those in Redcliffe. Cullen had held my hand as the healer shoved a needle through my backside. I thought we had reached a new level of understanding. I thought that our relationship had taken a turn for the better. Was he only agreeing with me because I was in pain, or because he didn’t want to focus on my precarious position on the bed? I didn’t know. I still don’t.

Finally, I decided I should probably go to bed. My thoughts won’t calm but I can walk through my meditations and try to find solace in dreams. I gingerly remove my leggings, the stitches catching, even though I pull them as far from my skin as I can. As they fall to my ankles, I realize there are tiny dots of blood on the inside where they sat over my wound. It doesn’t seem to have seeped through though and I thank the Maker for that. If it had, I’d be worried I had busted a stitch in my tantrum. 

I pull off my tunic, sliding into a worn, but soft one I have been using to sleep in, missing my silk nightgowns I had at the Circle. The cool fabric would do nothing to stymie the cold coming through the cracks of the cabin, but the material would feel so good on my overwrought body. I remove my smalls to give my stitches the air they need to heal and lay on top of the covers of my lumpy bed. 

On days like this I miss the luxuries the Circle afforded, not just my sleeping gowns, but the plush mattress in my chamber, the downtime, even the simple touch of a lover's hand. Not that I’d had many, but idle hands do wander. In the Circle, it was more about companionship than full-blown romance. Even with our Circle as sedate as it was, the Templars would not be happy if one of their charges ended up pregnant or in love, for that would eventually lead to a child. So we made do, trysts in alcoves, always taking precautions to prevent a pregnancy. Never spending too much affection on a single lover. It may make Mages seem a little easy, or like harlots to some, but to us, it was another way to cope with our existence. 

Now, more than ever, I need that sort of companionship. These rifts, this mark… They are doing things to my body. Every time I seal a rift, a keen hypersensitivity sets in. My skin tingles, my nerve endings set on fire. It does not abate until I have released the energy from my body. The pulses become painful if not fulfilled and the magic builds to an unbelievable height. I have thought, on more occasions than I’d like to admit, of taking on one of my companions as a lover. Sera has seemed willing enough, but I’ve never really been attracted to my own sex. She is beautiful, in her own way, and Maker knows she makes me laugh, but I would hate to hurt her. If and when she realized I was using her as a means to calm the tide rolling through me, she might even hate me. Bull has offered, but the idea of what he’s packing is daunting, in more ways than one. I have experimented with other means of releasing the magic but have yet to find a suitable substitute.

I am mulling this over when a light knocking sounds at my door. I pull the blanket up over my bare bottom before bidding the guest entry.

It is Cullen. He stands in the doorway, looking much like a statue of armor. 

I wait a few moment before finally asking, “Did you need something, Commander?”

This seems to shake the stillness from his body and he steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “Herald, I…” He starts but can not complete the thought. He crosses the room to me, looks down at my body sprawled across the bed and then turns, pacing the same path I had moments ago.

“Cullen,” I say softly, my anger melting away in the face of his nervous behavior. I don’t understand why he always seems so afraid of me, but my display earlier couldn’t have helped matters.

“Cullen,” I say, a little louder than I had a moment ago because he didn’t seem to hear me.

He stops his pacing and turns to face me.

“Did you need something?” I ask, again.

He glides his hand toward the one chair, perched in the corner of the room, in a ‘May I’ gesture. I nod, giving him the go ahead, and he pulls the chair to my bedside. He doesn’t speak for a moment. He simply sits, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his mouth, as if in prayer.

“Herald, I…” He starts again but then growls as the words refuse to leave his mouth. 

I turn to him, elbow propping my head up, shifting my blanket to remain covered. The blanket rakes across my wound and I can’t help but suck in a breath through my teeth.

“How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?” He asks, his voice tender. He looks as though he may pull the blanket away to check for himself. In fact, if the wound wasn’t where it is, I’m sure that would have been his exact reaction.

His concern is a punch in the chest. I want to be angry with him. He’d pissed me off. He deserved it. “I… it’s… I’m fine.” Now I’m the one stammering.

He smirks, pulling the scar above his lip taut. “It seems to be a bit on the sensitive side if pulling the blanket over it hurt.”

I can’t help but smile back. “I’m fine.” I reiterate. “I’ve been moving around too much. The stitches don’t like it. I should be putting the salve on it and letting it get more air, but we… the Inquisition, doesn’t have time for that.” I lay my head back down on my pillow, sliding my arm underneath to keep my eye on the Commander.

“I could talk to the advisors. Convince them you need the rest.” His offer seems genuine. He rests his palm on my arm. “You need to be able to stand and fight when the time comes.”

I close my eyes then, sighing. “Fighting. I never thought I would be doing so much of it.”

His gloved fingers begin making slow circles along my forearm and I let out a soft moan of relief. This was what I needed, touch. 

“I… I’m sorry.” He pulls his hand away from me, reaching to the back of his neck.

“Cullen, a comforting hand is always a welcome gesture. You don’t have to apologize for touching me. I’m not so easily offended.” 

He smiles but makes no effort to return to the touch I am craving so badly.

“Were you coming just to check on me?” I ask, after a few beats of silence.

“I… uhh… No.” He clears his throat, a sign that usually signifies whatever he is about to say will make him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did in the War Room. I didn't mean to offend you in any way. Words are not my strong suit, as you may imagine.”

I nod my assent and it brings another small smile to his face.

“I do not wish to see the Mages fall into Tevinter hands. In fact, that is one of the worst things I can imagine. But as you said about not abandoning your people, I feel the same about the Order. I know many have done wrong, but they are still my people. I joined the Order when I was thirteen. They have been my family since.”

“Thirteen, that is so young.” The compassion in my voice shocks me as much as it seems to shock him. Thirteen. I can’t help but recall the way I entered the Circle, or how my magic chose to manifest. 

Before I know it, the words are leaving my mouth.

“I… I was sixteen when I was taken to the Circle. My magic had manifested long before then, but it came and went subtly. My mother had this rose garden. One spring they all got sick. Many of the buds started dying off and it broke her heart. She wouldn’t even walk out into the back garden anymore. So, I went out there. She had told me that if you spoke to the roses, told them how beautiful they were, how soft, they would bloom more beautiful every year just to live up to your words. I took one of the sick buds in my small palms and began whispering to it, telling it to heal, to grow and to my surprise, it did. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait for my mother to see that her trick had actually worked. I went to bed, thinking to show her the next morning, but I awoke with her startled cry just outside my bedroom window. I rushed over to see what was wrong and to my surprise, the entire garden was full of the most beautiful roses. Not just the one, but all of them.”

“I remember telling her what I had done and her sudden joy turned into sheer and unbridled panic. She kept saying things that didn’t make sense to me then. ‘Never, and I mean never, do that again.’ ‘This family hasn’t produced a Mage in over a hundred years.’ It went on and on for some time, but being a Mage didn’t make sense to me. I had only done what I had seen her do so many times before. She had told me that was the secret to her garden’s beauty. But then she never went out into the garden again. I had tainted it. They were the most beautiful roses her garden had ever produced and she cut them all down. Not because she didn’t love them anymore, but she didn’t want anyone finding out how they came to be.”

Cullen takes my hand in his. I had almost forgotten he was there, so lost in my story. “Anyway, I’ve heard stories of Mages finding out their powers by setting their childhood home aflame, but that’s mine.”

“I’m sorry,” Cullen’s voice is a quiet whisper.

“But that’s not why you came here. You were wanting to talk to me about the Templars. I apologize for rambling.” I lower my eyes, somewhat ashamed for pouring out my heart to this man.

“Thank you for trusting me with that. It is not often a Mage will share with a Templar how they came into their power. Your story is actually quite beautiful.” We share a smile and I can feel some of the tension in my belly release.

“This is part of the reason I walked away from the Order. I had seen too many atrocities committed against innocent people. There was a Mage in Kirkwall who did nothing but help people, she even helped out the Order on more than one occasion. She was a firebrand, but she always had the good of the city at the forefront of her priorities. When my commanding officer threatened to have her executed, I knew I couldn’t stand by and let it happen.” 

“You are speaking of Hawke? Varric talks about her often. Did you know her well?” I can’t help my curiosity. He seems to hold her in high regard. I also can’t help the sliver of jealousy that creeps in unexpectedly.

“She called me a friend once. Always made a point to seek me out when she visited the Gallows, even if Anders was with her. I think she knew a little bit about my past. I was friends with a cousin of her’s. It wasn’t until our final year in Kirkwall that she stopped coming to see me. By then, I think she’d convinced herself that I, that all Templars, were a lost cause. It didn’t stop her from fighting against the blood mages in Kirkwall. She even stopped a plot to bring down Knight-Commander Meredith. She tried so hard to stay neutral, to not take sides. But in the end, we had pushed her too far. She had to stand and fight for her people.”

“So you see why I must do the same?” I ask cautiously.

“Yes, I do. I am not blind to your cause. But you are from the Ostwick Circle, tell me you didn’t know good Templars there. Tell me all are like the ones in Kirkwall. If you can say with honest conviction that you faced what Hawke faced in Kirkwall, what our Circle faced, I will not pursue the Templars any longer. But if you can’t, I have to believe there are good men being forced to do bad things in the name of their commanding officers. Meredith was a tyrant, but I fear the Lord Seeker is far worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Therinfall we go.


	8. The Herald's Predicament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen made a convincing argument. Scarlett couldn't deny her apprehension or his words, so she made the only decision she could. They would go to Therinfall. The Mages weren't going anywhere, yet. There was even a letter from Magister Alexius requesting she return to Redcliffe when she could. They knew he wouldn't make plans to return to Tevinter until he had finally met with her. 
> 
> After a few days, and some rest, Scarlett had healed. Cullen was apprehensive about this fact, knowing it should have taken longer, but Scarlett's only reply was, "Spirit Healer, remember."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finds out about Scarlett's problem.

Once the tents were set up and the fire started, everyone sat around it, mugs of steaming cocoa -- a gift from Dorian-- in hand. Cullen brought the mug to his lips and was surprised at the bittersweet taste that lingered on his tongue. It sent a happy warmth through his body and he wondered at the concoctions contents. Was there magic infused into the brittle brown slab Dorian had broken up and thrown into the pot?

“What is this?” Cullen found himself asking.

“Hot Chocolate. An Antivan delight. It is said to boost the mood and relieve sexual tension.” Dorian stated matter-of-factly, his eyes finding Scarlett across the fire. They shared small smiles before returning to their mugs.

Cullen choked on the Tevinter’s last words. Cocoa spurting from his nose and dribbling down his chin. 

A loud chuckle emanated from all around the campfire. Cullen flushed and attempted to clean himself up. His eyes found Scarlett across the fire, but she was no longer laughing. She was squirming, tugging at her leathers, then at the scarf around her neck. Her movements exaggerated by the fact that she couldn’t seem to hold still, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. When her eyes found him, she ceased her movement, frowning.

“It is as good as you promised, Dorian.” She beamed at him and he returned the smile with a slight dip of his head.

They all sat in companionable silence for a while before Scarlett excused herself. 

“I saw a stream not to far from here. I am going to see if I can get some of this road grime to wash away.” She sat her now empty mug down and pushed herself up. Cullen was graced with an amazing view of her butt as she bent to grab her extra tunic from her bag. He quickly cut those thoughts short and turned to the others around the campfire.

Sera and Dorian shared a knowing look that confused Cullen, but he chose not to ask until Scarlett had stepped away from their small camp.

“Ahh, our poor Herald.” Dorian started with a sigh before Cullen could ask what was going on.

“Poor Herald? Poor Herald?” Sera’s questions an exclamation, voice rising with every word. “What about poor us, who have to travel with her, huh? Hearing her at nights. The sounds she makes…” Sera trailed off with what seemed to be an excited shiver.

“I have offered my assistance, but she told me she was fine. Too bad, I like redheads.” Bull growled around the mug he had brought to his lips.

“She gets pretty snuggly with me no one’s watchin’, but she ain’t asked for that kinda help from me either.” Sera’s lip protruded in a mock pout.

Cullen’s confusion amplified with every statement. “What are you on about?” He finally asked.

Sera giggled and shared the knowing look with Dorian again, but neither spoke.

“Is there something I should know?” The Commander barked, and the twin conspirators jumped. Bull’s eyebrows raised a fraction.

Dorian cleared his throat before deciding to speak. “Our Herald has been suffering a… strange side effect after closing rifts.” At Cullen’s confused grimace, Dorian continued, “It seems that after closing a rift, her body goes into a state of… hypersensitivity.” He makes a showy gesture with his hand. “Clothes irritate her. She can feel a gentle breeze like the brush of a hand.” He sweeps his fingers across his own arm, raising gooseflesh in its wake. “The slightest touch sends her body into overdrive. She has found only one way to release the pent-up energy coursing through her.”

Cullen's cheeks were as crimson as the coals in the fire. “What…” he asked, but couldn't bring himself to finish the question. He cleared his throat but his mind began racing with images. Images of Scarlett pleasuring herself. Her fingers sliding into the slick folds of her flesh, nudging the taut nub at the crest. The look of unbridled passion as she brought herself to release. 

It was his turn to begin squirming uncontrollably. His pants suddenly felt too tight. The tunic across his shoulders, too heavy. He pulled at the fabric, creating a soft breeze between his skin and the linen stretched over it.

“We've experimented with other things, of course.” Dorian’s smirk let the Commander know that he was aware of what he was thinking.

Cullen found his voice then. “Ahh, hence the Hot Chocolate.”

“Yes, hence.” Dorian lifted his mug to his lips and made a low moan in his throat as he finished the last of his cocoa. “But we’ve all got to enjoy some of the benefits of our experimentations.”

“How so,” Cullen asked.

“Well, this lovely concoction for one.” He held up his now empty mug. “We’ve also had her utilizing her special abilities immediately after, had her practice new magic, potions, tonics. None have had the desired effect.” 

Cullen knew the confused look must have remained on his face because Dorian continued, “Surely this has come up in the Inquisition’s reports. Leliana was the one who suggested the Hot Chocolate.”

Not on any missives he’d seen, but that didn't mean anything. It would hardly be appropriate to inform the military commander that the Herald was suffering from an extreme case of horny. But that was not what Dorian had said. Those were Cullen’s own musings. Dorian had called it, what… hypersensitivity.

“I was not made aware of our Herald’s… predicament, no.” 

Sera couldn't stop herself from laughing. “That's ‘cuz you don't travel with us. I doubt anyone who sleeps in the same camp with her can stop from hearin’ her. Most times it's just the moanin’ but she talks too. Like she's imaginin’ someone there.” Again, she shivers at the thought.

“Is this… does this happen every night?” Cullen squirms a little, too.

“Like we said,” Bull chimes in, “it happens after she closes a rift.”

“And she's been riding in a saddle for an hour since the last one, woof.” Sera’s smile has a slight edge to it, making her look like some devilish sprite. 

They all sit in silence for some time. Sera moved to her tent, Bull to his. Cullen considered going to bed, but he wasn’t really tired. So he laid back, enjoying the few moments of peace, the crackling fire, the warm cocoa in his belly, the stars dancing overhead. He hadn’t had many moments like this lately. He recalls Scarlett’s excitement about this very thing only a few weeks ago. Maybe deciding to accompany them to Therinfall was going to be the break he’d been wanting so badly. Missives would be piling up, but he was sure Leliana or Josephine could handle anything important. His main concern now was to reach Therinfall. 

Dorian’s voice breaks into his thoughts. “Our girl has been gone a while, maybe it’s best I go check on her.” He scoops up his robe, ready to head down the path she had taken.

“I’ll do it.” Cullen finds himself saying. He regrets the words immediately. 

“It’s probably best if I go, Commander.” Dorian protests. “She won’t thank me if I allow her to be caught unaware.” There was a protective edge to the Tevinter’s voice. 

“Sorry… I… uh… I was only thinking that maybe my skills as a Templar could help.” Yes, Cullen, and what skills are those? What can you do to help her, other than the obvious? Are you going to dispel the magic from her body? I’m sure she will appreciate that. 

On second thought, Cullen decided that actually wasn’t a horrible idea.

The skin around Dorian’s eyes and lips tightened. He was ready to argue but Cullen pressed on.

“I mean, no one has tried to suppress the magic, correct?” He began fidgeting with the edge of his tunic, trying to find more words to add to his argument. “I could do that. I know she won’t like it, but as you’ve said, there hasn’t been a better solution. Maybe she will welcome my aid on those merits alone?” He hadn’t meant the last part to come out as a question as if he was asking permission from Dorian, but the Mage mulled it over.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOVED writing this next bit!!


	9. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett has stepped away from camp. She knows the others are talking about her "condition" but she decides to ignore it. Another attempt to quell this madness has failed, but she had little faith that chocolate would be the answer. She had heard the rumors that the euphoria it induced could equal orgasm, but she was living proof that it just wasn't true.
> 
> Now she's left with the only other option she knows to work... or so she thinks.

The stream wasn’t too far from the camp and with every step, I become all too aware of my surroundings. Probably due to the mark. I can hear the small animals scurrying in the underbrush. I feel the cool breeze like a lover’s caress. I can smell the snow that lingers on the distant mountains. I can taste the evergreen of the trees around me, mixing with the bittersweet tang of the cocoa. 

Voices rise behind me, but I block them out. I can only imagine what the others are telling Cullen. Dorian, I’m sure will attempt to be discreet. But Sera, Bull? Not a chance. In fact, I can almost bet Sera is down there right now giving a full reenactment of my nightly events. She’s told me I should stop talking when I have to “do that”. At least I am careful to not say anything that would make them believe I had someone specific in mind, and usually, I don’t. 

One day we had encountered a group of warriors training. One of them was quite handsome and gleaming with sweat. I imagined him pressing me up against a tree and having his way with me. I used him in my imagination as I would have used him in the Circle. But tonight would have been different. Tonight, I have no doubt there would be a specific person on my mind.

I crest the hill and find the stream I already knew would be there. I follow the curve of it to a small pool. The water isn’t deep here but I know it will at least come to my waist. Our party had stopped here before on our way to the Hinterlands. 

I unloop the scarf around my neck and set it aside, placing my clean tunic on top. My restrictive armor is next, followed by my boots and leggings. Free of the confining material, I make my way to the edge of the pool. 

The water is crisp and cool, making my already aching nipples perk at the contact. I hiss in a breath that spreads the ache to my teeth and lungs. I bend down, crouching in the lip of the water and summon fire to my fingertips, running them through the water. The pain lessens as the water heats and I step the rest of the way in. 

When I reach the middle, I sink below the surface, wetting my entire body. Before dipping my head under the water, I pull the band holding my long braid together and brush the tangles out with my fingers. When the majority of them have loosened, I dip my head back and let the water consume me. 

I lay there for a while, body half afloat, before actually making efforts to clean myself up. I start with my arms, massaging away any dirty residue I find, moving down my body. I cup my breasts and the ache in them threatens to return. My palms smooth over my belly, down my legs. I find a knot in my left calf and massage it out. The pressure feels good, almost a little too good. 

Now the part I’ve been dreading. I reach between my legs, meaning only to clean myself, but the pressure of my fingers is too much. My back automatically arches and a whining moan escapes my lips. I pull my hand away. 

Frustrated, I find a place shallow enough to sit in and bring my knees to my chest. There has to be a better way, something else that will bring my body relief. I ache all over. I can feel the tiny pebbles in the silt under me. The silky spindleweed grazing my legs like caressing fingertips. 

It’s all too much. This is too much. Maybe this is how the mark is killing me, slow burn, overstimulation, leading to a complete burnout of all of my nerve endings. 

The wind picks up, gently tugging at my wet hair. I lift my head, allowing the loose tendrils to get caught in the gust. I close my eyes and breathe in the wet cool air. It stings, but it also cleanses my racing thoughts. 

I can do this. It isn’t the worst thing in the world. If this is what I have to do to stay sane, to not have this overwhelming pressure constantly building within me, then it’s what I have to do. 

But it’s not what I want. It is empty, meaningless. There is no thought, no true desire here. 

I don’t know how long I sit like this but a rustling in the trees pulls me from my internal debate and has me sliding deeper beneath the water. 

It is likely Dorian. He doesn't like seeing me this way. Sure, at first, he joked about it. “If this is the worst side effect of the Mark, I’d say you were damn lucky.” But after the first few “episodes” he realized how much I was suffering.

When the bushes part, it is not Dorian that stands before me, but Cullen. My lower regions have a welcoming response but my brain does not.

“Cullen? What are you doing here?” I sink lower into the water, trying to hide all of my flesh from him. 

“I… uhh… Well…” He brings his fingers together, twisting them around each other before trying to rest his hands on a pommel that isn’t there.

“You what? Wanted to bathe yourself? Wanted to see me naked?” I don’t know why I said the last part, but the look on his face made it worth it. He flushed so hotly it was visible in the moonlight.

“No. No, that’s not why I came? Maker’s Breath.” He turns his back to me.

“You mean you don’t want to see me naked?” My tone laced with false hurt. 

When he turns back to see me smiling, his lips quirk in an innocent grin. His head dips and his eyes leave mine, but only as he speaks. “Do you want me to see you naked?”

I can’t tell if he is joking or not, but I laugh. “So, did you need something? Something that couldn’t wait until I got back to camp?”

“Actually… “ He pauses, hand reaching up to massage his neck. “I was hoping there was something I could do for you.”

His blatant admission stuns me. I have no words to say to him. Is he seriously offering to have sex with me? We stare at each other for a moment that seems to stretch into oblivion.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Dorian mentioned that you were experiencing a buildup of magic. That it was causing you… discomfort.”

Well, that was the tactful way to put it.

“I thought maybe we could try something. If you trust me, that is.” He looks to my discarded clothes and then back at me, waiting for me to say something.

I still can’t fit my thoughts around what he is suggesting. But he hasn’t truly suggested anything, yet. I compose my voice and my mind. “Okay, Cullen. What do you have in mind?”

I watch as he undresses, laying his clothes next to mine. He keeps his smalls in place but they do nothing to hide the bulge at the front. His body is masculine perfection. He steps into the water, making his way to me and my body screams, begging me to touch him, to let him touch me. I stay firmly in place. 

When we are within arms reach of each other, I can see the heavy rise and fall of his chest, hear his labored breathing. It’s good to know I am not the only one nervous about the outcome of this encounter.

“Give me your hands.” It is a gentle command, but I comply.

His calloused fingers glide across my palms sending a shockwave of pleasure through my body. I bite my lower lip to hold back the moan caught in my throat. His grip tightens and he pulls me closer to his body. 

“I… uhh… I have never tried to do this gently but I am hoping I have enough lyrium left in me to dispel the lingering magic in your body.”

“What?” This was not what I was expecting. I try to pull my hands from his grasp but his grip tightens. 

“Scarlett… “

My name stops my struggles. He’s never called me by my name. 

“I am only trying to help. Dorian said you’ve tried everything else. If this works you won’t have to suffer anymore.” He gazes imploringly into my eyes. Hands never leaving mine, but the pressure lessens.

His words strengthen my resolve. “Alright, but you must know, dispels feel like a punch in the gut. It is painful. You will be stripping me of a piece of myself.”

“Oh… I didn’t know. If you don’t want to do this…” His voice trails off. He releases my hands then. Awkwardly he shifts, not knowing what to do, now that his plan seems to have failed.

I don’t want him to walk away from me thinking he’d failed. He had come here intent on helping me. I gather the rest of my resolve. If he thinks this will help, I will allow him to do it. Maker knows it’s better than the alternative. Right? “Can you channel it, filter it? Can you make it like a siphon instead of a full-blown attack?” 

He turns back to me then, seeming encouraged by my questions. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

Taking his hands, I ask the same question he had asked of me only moments ago. “Do you trust me, Cullen?” I try to search his eyes but he looks away. When he turns back to me I am surprised to see him nod his head, telling me yes, he does trust me.

I slide from his hands and create a fireball in the palm of mine. “This is raw magic, Cullen. This can’t be controlled. Its flame will ignite anything it touches.” I toss the fireball onto a nearby boulder and we watch as it engulfs the rock in flame. 

“Now, this” I place my palm in the center of his chest, “is control.” I send a warming pulse out through my palm and watch as its faint red glow shivers over him. “One of the first things a Mage learns is how to control magic and not be controlled by it.” 

“That was… nice.” He smiles down at me and his hand covers mine, holding it to his chest.

Slowly, I pull away. I don’t want this crumbling into an act of passion. I have to have control. Isn’t this what I am currently trying to show him?

I clear my throat and begin again. “Learning how to send the proper amount of magic from your body takes skill and practice. The use of your Templar abilities holds no such finesse. You use them as a weapon. To create a slow bleed of magic,” I place my hands in the water, heating it just enough so we both feel the difference. “One must focus on not just the target, but how you wish to affect the target. If I wished to light a candle, I wouldn’t throw a fireball at it. Do you understand?”

“I think so.” Lines crease his forehead as he tries to take in all I am telling him.

“Lyrium is different. You aren’t pulling at strands of magic, you are pulling from your own blood. Controlling it is different. A Mage can use it to boost failing mana, but a Templar has no mana to work with. The lyrium, for a Templar, is a raw source of power, much like the fireball. It wants you to latch onto it. It wants to be in control. If this is going to work, you can’t let it take control or you will be carrying my naked body back to camp and explaining to Dorian what you have done.”

His features tighten and his lips press into a thin line before he moves toward me, taking my hands back into his. “I can only promise to try.”

I nod, shaking the nerves from my body. “Focus on the Mark. Let your mind think of only the magic pulsing from it.”

He closes his eyes, centering himself. He readies the ability and attempts to heed my words.

“Sweet Maker,” I scream as his dispel crashes into me. Cullen’s hands in mine are the only things keeping me from falling completely under the water.

“Oh Maker, I’m so sorry. I did it wrong.” He pulls me into his body holding me upright.

“No.” I start but find my breath is shaky. “No, that was not as bad as it could have been.” Still having little control of my extremities, I lean into him. “You didn’t throw me across the pool with your blast. That’s a good thing.”

My hands shake as he brings them to his shoulders, giving me more balance. “I hurt you.” He whispers softly. “Maker, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I can’t help but laugh, even if it is small and more of a sigh than a laugh. “If you had meant to hurt me, I don’t think I would be standing here.” I rest my face on his chest, my neck suddenly tired of craning to look at him. I can feel his muscles tense as my cheek meets his chest, but I don’t care. If he could dispel me, he could hold me as the effect wore off.

“Did… Did it work?” He asks after a few moments.

I pull away from him. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“How do we find out?” He asks patiently.

“Give me a moment.” I walk away from his warm embrace, stumbling. He reaches an arm out to steady me but I pull away. “Cullen, I won’t know if it worked if you are still touching me.”

“Oh… alright.” He takes a step back, trying to give me the space I need.

I turn away from him and close my eyes. Finally, I am able to stand and I push myself to my feet. The water slides down my body, caressing my curves, but the effect isn’t as potent as it was moments ago. The chill in the air makes my nipples perk, but there is less of a bite to it. I slide my hair across my back and over my shoulder, and the strands tickle but they no longer irritate my skin. 

I turn back to Cullen but he is now facing away from me. I call his name but he doesn’t turn. 

Thinking he is in some way trying to preserve my modesty, I dip back below the water and swim my way to his side. I take his hand in mine and he finally turns to look at me.

“I think it worked. Although it’s not completely gone, it hurts less. It’s not so demanding now.” 

He gives me a tight smile, squeezing my hand before releasing it, and takes a step to the shore.

“Cullen,” I say, halting his movement. He turns back to me, his face the mask of steel reserve that always set my nerves on edge. I push past it and say what I need to say. 

“Thank you.”

He nods his head and turns to make his way from the pool. 

For some reason, I already feel bereft of his presence, as if he may be feet away from me but he is no longer there. He never turns back to me. Never looking at me once he’s stepped away, and my heart aches. 

I should have asked him to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly love the slow burn... ;)


	10. Don't Take it Personally, Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Cullen walked away. 
> 
> An unexpected addition to the story. (Guest Appearance from Mass Effect)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the addition doesn't throw people but I needed a counter to Cullen and didn't want to add Rhys or give her an unlikely relationship with Dorian.

Cullen had thought he would dream of the Herald’s naked body pressed against him. He had thought the image of her emerging from the pool would be stamped into the forefront of his mind for eternity, her red hair fanning out as it glided across her back. But that was not the case. Instead of the images he had seen play out in his mind over and over, he had a new problem. This woman, this Mage, seemed to see into his soul. 

Every time they were alone, she would open her mouth and speak to the heart of him. She didn’t know him, couldn’t know him. He hadn’t allowed her in, he hadn’t allowed anyone to know the things she seemed to know about him.

No dreams of the Herald came. In fact, he hardly slept at all. Last night, it wasn’t the demons that kept him awake. “Templars as they should be.” “Lyrium wants control.” How… How could she say these things to him? She didn’t know his heart. Yet, in both moments she had only been trying to help him. To help him see that she didn’t think badly of him. This time she’d even been placing her trust in him. Her trust given to the one person who may actually want to hurt her, knowing that he might succeed. She was trusting him to be a Templar as they were meant to be.

Then, even after he’d dispelled her, even after he’d caused her pain, she leaned into him. Her breath had grazed across his neck, his chest. She had held onto him, pressing her body into his, as she regained her strength. He had physically hurt her, but she was accepting and even happy that he had been able to bring her some measure of relief. He had hurt her and she’d thanked him for it. And he was almost positive, she’d ask him to do it again.

\-------

The camp began to come alive and Cullen made his way out of his tent. Dorian had begun a fire and had a pot of mushy, grey porridge bubbling away on top. Sera was checking her quiver, counting the arrows inside. Bull wasn’t anywhere to be seen. When Cullen asked, Dorian informed him that he had gone to find a place to relieve himself. He noted the Herald’s absence as well, but assumed she had gone, just as Bull had. 

After Bull had returned, everyone began readying their packs for the continued journey. Cullen noticed Dorian packing away a few of the Herald’s things. In fact, most of her stuff was already on her mount. Had she packed and left, not wanting to face him after last night?

“Where is Sca… The Herald?” Cullen finally asked.

“Sleeping, I would assume. She hasn’t come out of her tent yet.” Dorian gestured to her tent.

“Was no one going to wake her?” Cullen knew he sounded a little frustrated, but they needed to be on the road, and quickly.  
“Ha!” Sera barked. “We’ve all learned that lesson. Ain’t nobody steppin’ foot in that tent until she climbs out herself.”

Cullen didn’t know what Sera meant by that but didn’t see why he shouldn’t at least try and rouse her. He got to his feet and made his way to her tent. He pulled the flap aside. She was outside of the covers in her smalls and an oversized tunic that had ridden up well past her waist. She lay on her side, one leg nearly up to her chest. Her messy red hair curled in sleep exaggerated madness around her, spilling over onto the ground. 

He took a step closer, thinking to at least cover her exposed body, but paused as an animalistic growl emanated from the woman before him. 

“Get out.” She didn’t scream, but the force behind her words was undeniable.

“Herald, we…” 

Cullen’s words were cut off when a book nearly caught him in the head. Her grimoire, a book most mages cherished, lay at his feet. 

“Are you deaf?” She sat up and the look she turned on him was full of fire and loathing. 

Cullen’s throat tightened and he turned, leaving the Herald. He didn’t understand. Last night she seemed to be happy with what he’d done. Now he wasn’t so sure. 

“Aww, don’t take it personally, Commander. She’s like that with everyone, every morning.” Dorian grinned and when Cullen flushed, he heard chuckles from around the campfire.

“She… She threw her grimoire at me.” He found he was still unable to process her actions and look of sheer hatred. 

“Be glad it was just a book. She clocked Bull with a wine bottle one morning. Luckily his head is so thick, it didn’t do much damage.” 

“There is one trick though.” Sera intoned. “She likes morning cuddles.” She popped up and made her way into the Herald’s tent. Soon giggling and playful banter could be heard from within. 

It wasn’t long before Sera and the Herald made their way out of the tent, hand in hand. Sera walked her over to a place next to Dorian and she held her hand out to him. He placed a steaming mug into her outstretched palm. 

Cullen felt so separated from the scene that played out before him. These people knew so much about Scarlett and him, so little. They got to spend nearly every waking hour in her company. They knew her quirks. 

He didn’t know it would irritate him to see how intimate she could be with others. She welcomed Sera’s head on her shoulder. She giggled at Bull’s inappropriate jokes. Maker, she was even standing among them in nothing but an oversized tunic. He knew this lack of intimacy was his own doing. He always pulled away from her, distanced himself. He knew she had stopped placing a hand on his, or trying to touch him in any way because he always reacted badly to it. He’d never had someone who wanted to reach out and touch him, simply because they could. He was lost in these thoughts when Scarlett plopped down beside him.

“Sorry, I’m a bit of a bear in the mornings.” She raised the still steaming mug to her lips and Cullen caught the bitter, rich smell of coffee.

He tried not to shift away from the nearness of her body. He wanted to let her know he was okay with it, that he would be willing to accept it from now on. “Don’t worry about it. They warned me, but I didn’t listen.”

She smiled then, and it was bright and welcoming. “I’ve always been that way. I can’t ever recall a happy morning. Sleep is a glorious thing. It seems such a waste to not give it a sad goodbye.”

Cullen couldn’t help but laugh. 

\-----------

They had been on the road for a few hours, Scarlett never keeping to one place in their party. She was so good at ensuring each of her companions received equal attention, never favoring one over the other. Cullen found this was one more thing he admired about her. He knew, at Haven, she could be found in any number of places. He had thought it had more to do with her inability to hold still, but he was now seeing her frequent stops were places her companions liked to be. He even recalled that she liked to round them up, have them all in the same place. This didn’t always work, but he’d seen her deliver invitations of Wicked Grace to Solas and even Vivienne. They always declined, so she would stay for a few minutes and chat with them before heading off to the tavern.

This wasn’t to say she was a people pleaser. She had her fair share of arguments brewing. Vivienne and Scarlett didn’t quite see eye-to-eye on the Circle. She didn’t like Cassandra’s brash attitude, but he could tell they were becoming close in spite of it. She rarely spoke to Varric about Mages and Templars but would hound him about Red Lyrium and stories about Hawke. In fact, the only three he’d never seen her argue with were the ones accompanying them now. These seemed to be her closest friends. It was easy to see she adored each one.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you to be traveling alongside a ‘Vint’, Iron Bull.” Cullen heard Dorian say from just behind him.

“That what you are? You people all kinda look the same to me.” Bull’s voice was deadpan. No emotion one way or the other. Cullen found this curious since the two people had been at war for quite some time.

“I’m also a Mage. Would you prefer me bound and leashed?” The lilt in Dorian’s voice made Cullen wonder if there wasn’t a hint of flirtation in the question. 

Apparently, Iron Bull thought the same. “I’d buy you dinner first.” His tone held the same flirtatious hint to it.

“Hopefully before you sewed my mouth shut.” There was no doubt, the Tevinter didn’t know when to quit talking. The question made Scarlett squirm a bit in her saddle. He even thought he heard her whisper ‘Maker, not again’ under her breath.

“Depends how much you keep yapping.” There was a bite to the big Qunari’s words. It was obvious Bull didn’t keep to the ideals of the Qun. Him being here, serving under Scarlett was proof of that. 

He didn’t know how long the argument would have lasted, for as they crested the hill in front of them, the telltale glow of a rift greeted their view. 

“Demons!” Scarlett shouted from her seat next to him. She dismounted quickly and rushed forward. The rest of the party followed suit.

When they reached the rift, they were all surprised to find a Mage already battling the demons spewing from the green glow. He cast fire and ice, nearly in tandem. His staff crashing down and adding more ice to the battle. A demon crashed into him, knocking him to the ground, but the mage drug his staff through the dirt creating a shield of ice between him and the monster. He wasn’t out of danger yet, for a rage demon approached from behind him.

Cullen felt, rather than saw, Scarlett cast a barrier spell over the Mage just before the rage demon made a swipe at the young man. She stretched her palm toward the rift and a jet of green light connected her to the glow. As the magic crested, it froze the demons in place, severing their connection to the Fade for only a moment. But the moment was all the Mage needed. He cast again, encasing the rage demon in ice. 

Scarlett once again cast her barrier spell, but this time it was for the party surrounding her. She sent out a barrage of lightning, the magic pulled from her chest, creating a momentary shield around her body. Cullen couldn’t help but watch, he had heard others speak of her power but every time he saw it with his own eyes, he was astounded at the amount she could wield with one attack. 

“A little help here,” Dorian yelled, calling him back to the task at hand. But Cullen witnessed Scarlett’s power yet again.

He didn’t know what spell she had just used, but Dorian was suddenly encased in a green glow. Spirits wrapped themselves around him, fending off the demons when he failed to. 

“Cullen, some help would be nice.” Scarlett nudged him to the fray. 

Finally, he leaped into action. His blade coming down on a demon who had finally noticed Scarlett. 

Soon, the battle was over and Scarlett raised her hand a final time to seal the rift. The energy bounced back, knocking her a little off balance but she recovered quickly, shaking her arm in an effort to shake the magic away. Her eyes met his, and he knew what she wanted. 

Before he could take a step to her, the Mage they first saw made his presence known again. “Bloody hell! What in the Maker’s name did you just do?”

Scarlett froze. Cullen knew the trepidation of her response. They had yet to encounter a Mage on the road that wasn’t hostile. He turned ready to face this new threat but was not prepared for what he was about to witness.

Scarlett threw her staff down and ran. Ran at the Mage that was less than fifteen feet in front of them. To his surprise, the Mage didn’t attack. He held his arms in open invitation as Scarlett leaped onto him, wrapping her legs around him and planting kisses over his cheeks and forehead. They fell to the ground, Scarlett straddling the Mage, his hands landing on her hips.

“Ryder!” She shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

The Mage raised himself onto his elbows but made no move to push Scarlett away. Surely one of them had to realize they should be embarrassed by this position. It was certainly making Cullen uncomfortable. Her arms snaked around the Mage and she buried her face into his neck. It was then Cullen got a good look at the man Scarlett had pounced on. His dark hair was long on top, mussed and falling into his eyes. His smile, which hadn’t left his face since Scarlett’s attack, was wide and his teeth perfectly white. His full lips pressed into the top of Scarlett’s hair as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. This man was so handsome, it made him itch to pull Scarlett away from him.

When she finally stood, pulling the other Mage up with her, he could finally breathe again. She held his hand as they made their way to our group. 

“Everyone, this is Scott Ryder. He is a friend of mine. We were in the Ostwick Circle together.” Her smile was devastating, so bright and so full of happiness, that Cullen felt a small piece of his heart sink into his stomach.

“Ryder, this is Dorian, Iron Bull, Sera, and Cullen.” She gestured to each of person in turn. 

Ryder shook hands with each person, giving broad smiles and sharing pleasantries. Cullen had to admit, the man oozed charm. And it hadn’t escaped his notice that Scarlett had yet to release the Mage’s hand.

“Ryder, would you mind if the Commander and I stepped away for a minute. There is something I need to take care of.” He told her he didn’t mind, and Dorian seemed more than willing to entertain their latest addition. He kissed her on the cheek before she stepped away. 

They walked a fair distance away from the party, both silent. When she turned to him, she held out her hands just as they had done in the pool the night before. She turned her eyes back to the party, to the man, they had just left. “I didn’t want to do this in front of Ryder. Dorian knows what I’ve been going through, but he doesn’t. I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. No need for him to think you are hurting me on purpose.”

“Scarlett, we don’t have to keep doing this if you don’t want to. Besides, I don’t know how many times I will be able to do it myself.” At her questioning look, he decided he’d be honest with her. He was wanting to build a better relationship with her, after all. “Scarlett, I’ve stopped taking lyrium. It’s been months now. What little I have left in me, I’ve used to help you. It won’t be long before it is all out of my system and then you will have to let someone else dispel you.”

She was quiet for a moment. “But the lyrium withdrawal… “ Most mages know of it, even if no one really speaks about it. “Are you… Are you in pain?” 

“I can withstand it.” He stated flatly. Not knowing whether the words were true or not. 

“Cullen,” her voice was soft, full of concern. “Cullen, don’t do this.” She pulls her hands from his, her face downcast. She looks like she is trying to find the right words to say to him.

“This was my choice. If you think…” He hadn’t meant to get angry with her, but she needed to understand why. She needed to see he wouldn’t tie himself to the Templars or that life any longer.

Her eyes dart to his, full of surprise. “No. Cullen, that’s not what I meant. I respect what you are doing. I only meant, don’t do this. Don’t use what reserves you have left to purge me of my magic. Maker knows it is unpleasant for me, but I can’t imagine what it will do to you.” Her hand lifted to gently cup Cullen’s cheek and he pressed into the touch. It brought a small smile to her face. 

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.” He whispered into her hand.

“No, don’t be sorry.” Her eyes meet his and he saw the admiration in them. She realized what this meant for him and she was proud of him.

“But what about you? What about your problem? We need to find another Templar willing…”

She cut off his words with a sharp look, pulling her hand away from his face. “I trust you. That doesn’t mean I am going to trust any random Templar to do what you did. I will get by. You are a good man Cullen, but the same can’t be said about all of those in your Order.” She pauses, rethinking her words. “The Order.” She restates, not placing Cullen among their ranks any longer. “You were a Templar. You must know what many of them think of Mages. You have proven yourself a friend to me, but do you now trust all Mages you see?”

“No.” He sighs but leaves it at that.

“It’s not so bad.” She shifts uncomfortably, and Cullen saw it for the lie it was. “There are worse things that could have happened. I will just have to deal with it.” She walked away and didn’t get far before she mumbled, “Or find someone to help me deal with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love is a-brewing.
> 
> Kudos to anyone who recognized the scene between Scarlett and Ryder.


	11. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett is put on the spot. 
> 
> It's confession time.

Ryder decided to join the party. He didn’t have a tent, having been separated from the Mages he was traveling with some time ago. Scarlett was quick to offer hers, stating that she could always share with Dorian or Sera. This made Sera a little too happy, Cullen thought. 

“Or we could just share your tent.” Ryder nudged Scarlett’s arm. 

Scarlett blushed, her eyes finding Cullen’s. “Uh… Normally I would be okay with that, but... “ She paused, not knowing how to finish the thought.

Ryder didn’t miss the look she and Cullen had shared. “Ahh, but you are already spoken for.” 

This sent the rest of the party into fits of laughter. Bull, who had taken a drink of ale, had liquid squirting out of his nose and dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away on the back of his arm before downing the rest of the brew.

Both Cullen and Scarlett flushed a deeper red. 

After the laughter had died down and Ryder was looking to Scarlett for an explanation, she said, “No. Nothing like that.”

“Oh.” He turned to Cullen. “Sorry for assuming.”

When no explanation was forthcoming, Sera decided to speak for her. “Our Lady Herald is having issues after closing rifts.” She wiggled her eyebrows, in an ‘if you catch my meaning’ gesture.

Thanks for that, Sera.

“My body goes into a state of hypersensitivity for hours after.” Scarlett’s flush was now almost as bright as the flames in front of her. Cullen found that he liked seeing her like that. It was not often the woman was flustered.

“Oh,” Ryder started, but then he seemed to realize what she meant. “OHH.” He nearly exclaimed. “And this happens every time? How have you been dealing with it?” His smile was a little too flirtatious.

“Oh, you know, experimentation, potions. That sort of thing.” She tried to brush the subject aside but Ryder seemed to have no end to his curiosity about the subject.

“And what kind of experimentation are we talking about?” He looked to those sitting around the campfire. His eyes landing on Cullen. He remembered her pulling him aside after closing the last rift.

Maker, please don’t let him go there.

But he did. “And I assume, when you pulled the Commander aside earlier, you were working on said experiment?” His smile held a hint of amusement and what Cullen could only say to be jealousy. 

“Yes,” Scarlett stated flatly. “Yes,” she said again. “Cullen has been helping me. We had found one way that seemed to work. We were only able to try it once before we realized it was no longer an option.” She didn’t say anymore and Cullen was thankful for that. 

The look of jealousy left Ryder’s eyes in an instant. He turned to her. “So you’re telling me if I do this…” Ryder reached out a hand and stroked it along Scarlett’s exposed neck. Her body shuddered at his touch and her lip sank below her teeth. Cullen could see her nipples perking behind her thin tunic. Scarlett turned lust-filled eyes on her friend but quickly turned back to Cullen. 

When she noticed where Cullen’s eyes were on her body, she closed her jacket, buckling the strap holding it together.

“Woah.” He pulled his hand back and readjusted his seat beside her.

“Alright, I don’t want to deprive you of your tent, Herald.” The last he added in an almost joking manner. “I could just bunk with the Commander or Dorian.”

Scarlett seemed to mull this over for a moment. Cullen couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and he could only hope her thoughts hadn’t strayed to her comment earlier. He didn’t think he would be capable of letting that specific scenario play out. Her moans, his welcoming response. And just the thought of them together was conjuring the loop he so desperately tried not to think of. 

“No, I still think you should take my tent. It will work out better for all, I think.” She made no mention of her sleeping arrangements but he seemed satisfied, if a little disappointed, with her answer. 

“Where’s food?” Sera asked. “I’m starvin’!”

“Please tell me you are going to cook, Scar. It has been way too long since I’ve had a decent meal.” Ryder seemed to get more than a little excited at the prospect. 

“Of course. Do you think I would let my children starve?” Scarlett got up to collect her pack and Sera followed after.

When they returned, they had the pheasants Sera had caught earlier that day and one of Scarlett’s saddlebags. Sera handed a pheasant to each man sitting around the fire and they started cleaning them. Cullen had never actually cooked for himself and tried to follow what the other men were doing. He wasn’t sure how successful he was but Scarlett said nothing about his abilities one way or another when she took the bird and began preparing it for roasting. 

Cullen was surprised to see that the little bag Scarlett had brought into the camp had been filled with endless herbs and other cooking supplies. He had harassed her when she dismounted for the fifth time while on their journey to pick one thing or another. There were herbs he recognized and others he did not. There were fresh apples and a few vegetables that he could see. She pulled out a large handful of mushrooms and a small pot. When she realized she was overburdened, she called him over.

“Here take these.” She put the handful of mushrooms into his hands and reached back into her bag, pulling more of the fungi free. She placed those in his hands as well. “Can you rinse the dirt off of these?” 

“Of course.” He took the mushrooms back to his seat and cleaned them. 

She came back to stand over him after she had finished her preparations, setting the pot under one of the pheasants to catch the dripping fat. He presented the cleaned mushrooms to her and she frowned. He didn’t know what he’d done. 

“I should have told you to be gentle. Oh, well. They are still edible.” She returned to her cooking without another word.

By the time the pheasant was done cooking, she had prepared a mushroom gravy to go on top and cinnamon apples as a side. Bowls were divided up and handed to each member of the party. 

Cullen enjoyed watching Scarlett be domestic. He had never seen this side of her before. It made him wonder what she would be like as a wife, as a mother. He found he liked that idea. Her with children scurrying around her feet, cooking, baking. She was good at caring for other people, he already knew, but this was different.

“She’s full of surprises, isn’t she?” Cullen hadn’t even realized Ryder had sat down beside him until he spoke.

“Yes. I’ll admit, I didn’t even know she could cook.” Cullen knew he was blushing, but when it came to Scarlett, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“She’s also very careful about where she places her trust. Yet, you seemed to have earned it.” Scarlett’s eyes met his and she smiled, confirming the Mages words.

“We haven’t always got along. Her trust is fairly new.” Cullen knew that wasn’t really true but he felt like if not new, it had changed recently.

“Yes, well… It isn’t always easy for a Mage to trust a Templar, is it?” 

Cullen was dumbfounded at the question. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t told Ryder about being a Templar, and Scarlett had pretty much told him that she knew that was his past. She knew he didn’t want to be associated with the Order. Of course, that wasn’t completely true either. They were on their way to Therinfall because of him.

“Don’t look so upset. I only know because I cornered her earlier. I wanted to know what experiments you all were putting her through. I asked her about what experiment you two had been about to attempt. She told me you were going to purge her magic. I’m not happy about it, but she said that it had helped.” Ryder paused, turning to Cullen. “But I will say this. I love that girl. She was my rock at some of my darkest times. If you break her heart, I will come after you.” The Mage sprung to his feet, and Cullen was left staring after him. 

Break her heart. Maker, they weren’t even in a relationship. How could he break her heart? 

Scarlett chose that moment to sit next to him, her eyes bright and her smile warm. “So, what did you think?”

“What?” Cullen couldn’t wrap his mind around what the Mage had just said, let alone try and discern what Scarlett could be talking about.

“The food, silly. Was it good?” She gestured to the bowl in his hand.

“Oh… uhh… yes. It was very good.” 

Her smile fell for a moment as she examined his face. He didn’t know what she saw there, but as always it was too much.

“Hey, don’t let Ryder get to you. He’s just looking out for me. We grew up together. He thinks of me as his little sister.” She giggled at the sister part. “Okay, maybe his little sister that he doesn’t mind flirting with. We’ve always been close, but we’ve never been romantic. He’s a big flirt, but I’m not really his type.” Her eyes drifted over to Ryder, who was now chatting up Dorian. “Dorian on the other hand.” She shrugged, nodding her head side to side.

“Then why didn’t you want to share a tent with him?” Cullen wasn’t sure why he’d asked the question but found he really did hope she’d answer it.

“I love him. He’s sweet. I have no doubt that if he saw how badly the mark effected me, he would do what he could to help. I don’t want to use someone like that. It wouldn’t be fair. Why do you think, after all this time, I haven’t just been sleeping around? I want someone I feel a connection to. I want someone I trust. I want to be with someone who is capable of loving me, of being with me, when the lust wears off. Ryder might be willing to, but I can’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

“But you just said, you have those things with him.” Cullen knew she wouldn’t be the kind of girl to take advantage just because she could. He knew what she meant. He didn’t know why he was so intent on her just coming out and saying she didn’t want him, but he felt deep down that he needed to hear it.

“Yes, and I also said he was gay. How selfish would that be? Do you think he would like pleasuring me, to be offered nothing in return? Eventually, he would hate me for the arrangement.” She begins tugging at her scarf. The fabric, he knew, growing ever more uncomfortable by the minute. She loops it around her neck, pulling it free and begins pulling her jacket and tunic away from her body, venting the flush he could see creeping up her neck.

“How… How bad is it?” 

She pauses, only then realizing what she had been doing. “It’s… uh… it’s building.”

It dawns on Cullen then, everything she had just said. He may be slow sometimes, but he usually gets there. “Last night, when I came to you… “ He can’t finish the question. The words stick in his throat, his mouth going so dry, he has to peel his tongue from its roof.

“What about last night?” He turns to her, but she won’t look at him, concentrating on her feet. 

“I…” Maker, why is this so difficult. “Were you hoping…” Again, he freezes. He wants to know. But Maker, what if she says, no. 

“Cullen, I don’t know what I was hoping. When you said you had come to help, I was shocked. My body responded, it wanted your touch more than anything. But my brain was saying other things. When you told me you were there for another reason, part of me felt relieved.” She took his hand, lacing her fingers between his and finally looking into his eyes. “But a part of me wanted you like I’ve never wanted anything before. When you held me, I wished your hands would have wandered. And when you left, the thing I wanted most in the world, was to ask you to stay.”

Cullen couldn’t think. His mind was spinning out of control. He wanted her, he wanted her to want him. She sat before him admitting that she had wanted him to stay last night. He wanted to pin her to the ground and take her, right there in front of everyone. He didn’t care who saw. This woman wanted him, and if her earlier words were any indication, she wanted more than just his body. But she was the Herald, and he the Commander of the Inquisition. How would it look if he took her in the middle of the camp? 

No.

He schooled his thoughts, tapping into his steel reserve. He wouldn’t act. Not now. 

Scarlett pulled her hand from his, mistaking his change of mood. “I’m sorry, Commander. I was too forward.” 

Cullen took her hand back into his. “I am only trying to prevent myself from making a very untoward assault on your body right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all been waiting for, next chapter. ;) Thanks for all the love.


	12. Confession Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We're finally there. I know you've all been waiting for it, so I posted it as soon as I finished it.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Cullen gripped my hand, but the steel reserve remained. 

Why did I have to say anything?

When he finally speaks, it is through clenched teeth. “I am only trying to prevent myself from making a very untoward assault on your body right now.”

Maker, what did he just say? 

The words were so heated, I could feel them like a flash of flame. My insides roiled with desire, the effect of the mark amplified to an unwelcome new height. My body hums with unshed magic. His amber eyes seer into mine and I find myself having the desire to make a very untoward assault on his body.

Dorian breaks the spell that we have now both fallen captive to. “Darling, I am going to bed if you wish to join me.”

We both jump, releasing each other’s hand. 

The Tevinter doesn’t miss a beat. “Or not. I’ll be here. Just try not to wake me if not completely necessary. I must get my beauty sleep.”

Cullen and I share a guilty look. We shouldn’t have been embarrassed at getting caught. It wasn’t as if we were acting on those feeling, simply holding hands.

Ryder crosses in front of us. “I guess I should be off to bed, too.” He makes his way behind me and crouches down, planting a kiss on my cheek. “You sure you don’t want to share a tent?”

“I’ll be fine, Ryder,” I reassure him.

“Yeah, I don’t much like your options. I think Sera will enjoy your company, but the Vint? He just doesn’t seem the type. You could always go for the Qunari, though I’d hate to see you riding in the saddle tomorrow.” 

I draw my arm back to punch him, but he slides away before my fist can connect. 

“Just sayin’, love.”

“Oh, and you’d be so apt to give me the pleasure I desire.” 

Ryder breaks into a beaming grin. “I will have you know, many people find my skills more than acceptable.”  
Rolling my eyes, I push him toward the tent. “I love you, Ryder. Goodnight.” He plants another kiss on my cheek before stepping away.

I turn to see Cullen’s murderous glare, where Ryder had stood moments ago.

“He’s only kidding.” I nudge Cullen in the side, bringing his eyes back to me.

“You know, I’m not positive he is.” Cullen takes my hand back in his and places a gentle kiss on my knuckles, as he brings it to his lips. “I should be going to bed, as well.” 

He stands, never releasing my hand, forcing me up with him. We walk to his tent. Before he pulls the flap back to enter, he turns to me. “Goodnight, Herald.” When he says my title, it is with all the reverence a title like the Herald of Andraste should hold. He releases my hand, bringing his up to push back a strand of hair that has fallen into my face. 

I stand outside his tent wondering why he sent me away for longer than I’d like to admit. Finally, I decide to leave, heading for Dorian’s tent. I open the flap and step inside.

“Really, after that display you just put on. You come into my tent.” Dorian blurts out.

The lie comes quickly to my lips. “We didn’t think it would be appropriate…”

He cuts off my words. “Screw appropriate. Screw him.” He stands and pushes me back out of the tent.`

 

\-------------

“Cullen?” I whisper hesitantly as I open the flap of his tent.

“Maker, Scarlett. You shouldn’t have come back.” Even in the candlelight, his eyes burn with desire.

Before I can respond, his lips are on mine. I hear myself let out a shriek of surprise against his lips. His rough hands grip my face, pulling me further into the tent. His hungry kiss reaches into the depths of my soul. I can’t breathe, don’t want to breathe. He pulls away, and my heart constricts at the loss. I want more. 

His amber eyes glow in the dim candlelight. His fingers trace the outline of my lips leaving trails of molten fire in their wake. He sighs as he presses his forehead into mine.

“Maker, I have wanted this for so long.” He whispers into my ear, leaning in to take the lobe into his hungry mouth. He sucks and pulls, causing a moan to slip from my lips. Kisses, light, and tender are trailed down my neck. Each press of his lips against my skin is like a brand. My skin receives it, but it will forever hold his mark. He tilts my head back and his teeth tease my tender flesh. His tongue follows, soothing the ache left behind.

Impatiently, I pull on the straps that hold my leathers to my body. I want my armor off. I want to feel his body pressed into mine. My fingers are clumsy, slipping on the buckles. I growl my frustration, pulling away slightly to get a better idea of why my fingers keep slipping, but Cullen pulls me back, not yet ready to break the hold he has over me. Soon his fingers join mine, tugging until the straps slip free. 

He pushes the jacket off of my shoulders, not waiting for it to slide down my arms, before pulling my tunic from my trousers. His hands slide across my belly and wrap around my body. Pulling my body flush to his, I feel his hard cock press into me. 

Maker, he is big.

His fingers find the waistband of my trousers and I can’t help but giggle at his eagerness. “Slow down, Commander.”

He pauses, breathless, taking a step back from me. His eyes now uncertain. “I’m sorry.” His voice so low I barely hear the words.

Using the waistband of his trousers, for that’s the only thing he’s wearing, I pull him back to me. “I didn’t say stop.”

Grinning now, he pulls me in for another kiss. It is long and languid, forcing my knees to go all wobbly. He grips my arms to steady me. “Better?” 

“Yes. Maker, yes.” The words leave my mouth on a breathless sigh.

Gently, he slides my jacket down my arms and waits for it to fall to the floor before lifting my tunic over my head. I can’t help but smile as he gazes longingly at all of the flesh he’s just exposed. He glides his calloused hands from my hip bones to my waist, his touch seems to want to find every curve and crevice of my body. I sink my fingers into his loose curls as he bends to place soft kisses along my collarbone. He grunts his appreciation and I feel his lips curve into a smile against my skin.

He tugs, none too gently on the strings of my breast band, to release the rest of my upper body to his wandering hands. Before he can remove the unwanted fabric, he cups my breasts, sliding his thumbs underneath the band to caress my already throbbing nipples. I gasp as a wave of pleasure mixed with pain assails my body. He lifts the band over my head and takes a step back. 

The look in his eyes is one of sheer and blatant adoration. It reminds me of the way he chose to use my title earlier. 

“Maker, you are perfect.” His voice is breathy, full of pent-up desire. It calls to me, makes me react in ways I would never have expected. I want to tell him that he is perfect. The sight before me surely carved by the Maker himself. But before I can his mouth seals over mine, drawing nothing but a whimpering cry of need.

His hands cup my now bare breasts, massaging the pure ache of the mark away. My nipples rub against the tiny red-blonde curls at the center of his chest, causing me to hiss at the friction. As if he realizes the cause of my discomfort he pulls away, only enough to breach the contact. His thumbs press into them, as he attempts to massage the ache from them as well, but I shake my head. That’s not what they want. I bring my hands to the top of his head, guiding his lips to the hardened peaks. He lets out a small chuckle as wet heat glides over my skin. He flicks my nipple with the tip of his tongue, before taking it fully into his mouth. He sucks gently, pulling the tip with his lips. His eyes find mine and he watches as they flutter with every languid lick, every pull of his sucking lips.

My hands find his waist, but at this angle, I can do nothing but stroke his sides, his stomach, his chest. His muscles quivering with every stroke. 

He knows what my hands truly seek. He releases me and steps closer. His eyes follow my questing fingers. He wants to see me take hold of him. Finding the laces of his trousers, I untie them. I waste no time, sinking my hand below the waistband. His cock is long and thick, heavy in my hand. Feeling him for the first time, the velvet softness, makes me shudder. I know that my smalls will be soaked when he pulls them from my body. I wrap my fingers around Cullen’s shaft and his hips thrust forward, pumping into my grip. He groans as I force his hips to steady, wanting to stroke the length of it myself. As I stroke, Cullen pushes his trousers, and smalls, down to his thighs.

His lips fall onto mine. My arm now trapped between our bodies, but I don’t stop stroking. His erection presses into my belly making my grip even tighter. Heady moans are released into my mouth. His tongue darts out begging entry. My lips part and his tongue delves deeper. With the press of his body, I am forced to release him.

His palms find my breasts one more time before, gripping my hips, he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders, as he carries me to his bedroll. Gently, he lays me down. He tugs his smalls the rest of the way off, his trousers had fallen in our walk to the makeshift bed. 

He raises my arms, pinning them above my head. Almost lazily he grinds his erection into my hip. With his free hand, he rakes his nails softly from my wrist to my shoulders, from my shoulders to the waistband of my pants. Taking his time, he unties the laces, looping the string between his fingers. My hips buck at his slowness and finally, he slides his palm under my smalls. His fingers seeking the center of me.

“Already ready for me?” He smiles down at me, as his hand makes contact with the wet heat.

With one finger, he begins slow circles around my engorged clitoris. I scream at the touch and the hand that had been holding my wrists slips over my mouth to silence my cries. “Scarlett, you are going to wake everyone. Try not to scream.” He laughs as if he doesn’t really care if they hear or not.

As his finger slips between my folds, dipping into my core, I scream again. He chuckles and I realize that he intended the reaction. He strokes his finger in and out of me until I am loose enough for more. My body refuses to be still, squirming and writhing beneath him.

When he inserts the third of his fingers, he hooks them to find my sweet spot, stroking harder as I bite down on my lip to prevent further cries. My hips buck and my body spasms as he brings me to orgasm. 

He pulls away, giving me time to realign my body with reality. In my post-orgasmic haze, he pulls my pants off and kneels before me, again taking in every inch of me before bringing his lips to mine. His fingers slide back inside of me as he spreads the slick juices of my orgasm over the folds of my sex. Sliding his leg between mine, he pushes them into a V that encompasses his body. His hips rock into mine. I can feel the length of him pressed into my mound, sliding over my clitoris, but my body wants him and wants him now. 

“Cullen, please,” I beg, not wanting to wait another moment. 

“Please? Please, what?” He whispers into my ear, his heated breath on my neck sending another ripple of pleasure straight to my core.

“I need you inside of me. Please.” I don’t know what he expected me to say if he had thought I would say ‘Fuck me’ or something to that effect, but my words receive a primal growl before he lifts my hips and plunges his full length into me, driving me into the ground. He pulls back slowly before slamming into me, over and over. 

The unexpected mixture of pleasure and pain has me whimpering into his shoulder. 

He pulls away, not leaving my body, but just enough to search my face. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I say. “More.”

This time he picks up speed, no longer pounding me, but fast, hard thrusts. His hips pumping in a steady rhythm. It won’t be long before I cum again. 

He shifts, pushing my left leg over his shoulder, causing him to sink in deeper, finding my sweet spot with every stroke. I press my mouth into his neck, trying to stifle my ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck’. My nails dig into his shoulders and he sucks in air through his teeth. 

“Maker, Scarlett. Are you trying to mark me?” His voice is breathy, heated.

“Maybe.” I giggle, allowing a moan to escape the confines of his neck.

He pumps faster, harder. His urgency, now driving my own and I cum hard. My juices flowing between us. His pace slows and I think he’s about to cum, but then he pulls away, flipping me over and raising my hips. His thumb traces the scar across my cheek. I have only a moment to wonder if he had thought about this moment since that day before he slides into me again.

He grips my hips but he doesn’t have to force my body into him. I am already moving my hips with him, my body now doing a majority of the work. He reaches up and grips my shoulder, pulling me back harder than my current position should allow. I am on the brink of another orgasm when I feel him lose his rhythm. Still, I want that next release. I reach between my legs and find my swollen nub. As he pumps I stroke. 

My orgasm comes hard and fast, but Cullen hasn’t stopped. I know he’s close so I reach back a little further. His balls are heavy and wet with my juice. They slide between my fingers easily as I massage them.

Cullen cries out. “Fuck, Scarlett, Fuck.” And with one last thrust, he collapses onto my back.


	13. To Therinfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on the road.

Cullen awoke to light nuzzling along his neck, arms snaking around his torso. The warm naked body pressed against him was a shock at first. His body tensed, ready to fight off whatever had latched onto him in the night. As he opened his eyes, images of the night before flooded his vision. Scarlett writhing beneath him, moaning and screaming. He looked at his shoulder, and there were the scratch marks, telling him it wasn’t a dream. 

And there she was, snuggled into the crook of his arm. He brushed the wild, strands from her face, wanting to take in her look of contentment. 

Was that look for him? Was he the reason she wore a small smile even in sleep?

He hoped so. He shifted his weight, rolling Scarlett onto her back next to him. He knew that too soon this would be over. He knew that he couldn’t keep her here and make love to her all day, but that wouldn’t stop him from taking her now. 

Gently, he stroked the plain of her belly, finding the tiny scars he hadn’t noticed last night. His fingers traced each one. He made a mental note to ask her how she got them. He cupped her breast and placed light kisses over the soft flesh. Her nipples perked and a sleepy moan greeted his ears. He pulled her nipple between his lips and released it, enjoying the way her back arched and her breast jiggled. If she would allow, he was sure he’d found his new favorite toys. 

He was in the midst of enjoying said toys when he heard her whisper, “Good morning, Commander.” He liked the way she said it with just a hint of flirtation behind it. Maker, if she said it that way from now on, he would be in trouble.

“Is it a good morning? I thought you didn’t like mornings.” He slid his leg between hers, and she opened herself to him. He positioned his body directly over hers, putting his weight on his hands and knees.

“I think I could learn to like mornings if they started like this.” Her hands came up to his shoulders and she traced the lines her nails had made in his flesh. “I am sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He could only smile down at her. 

She closed the distance between them, propped on her elbows, and placed a tender kiss on his lips. He returned this kiss with another. 

Soon she broke away from the kiss to stretch her body underneath him. Cullen took that moment to fully look at her. Her tanned skin was slightly freckled along her shoulders and along her cheekbones. She bore a faint scar on her left cheek he’d never really noticed before that looked as if lightning had imprinted itself into her skin. Her lips were full and always slightly red.   
But it was her eyes that captivated him. He knew they were blue, but this close he could see streaks of green around her irises.

“I’d never really noticed how beautiful your eyes are.” He couldn’t help saying. 

She made a nervous chuckle. “The blue I can fully claim has always been there, but the green is new. It happened after I closed the rift at Haven.” She turned her eyes from him then, and he could tell she was uncomfortable talking about it. 

“Don’t.” Taking her cheek in his palm, he turned her face back to his. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, neither willing to break the contact. 

Cullen bent down, kissing Scarlett’s collarbone, her neck. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he felt the wet heat of her press against him. He pushed his hips into her, letting her feel that he was hard and ready for her, but she pushed him away. 

She came to her knees, guiding Cullen by the shoulders until he was laying down. She straddled him, lining the tip of his cock up with her wet opening. She pressed into him, sliding over him. She was tight from their encounter the night before and it made her descent slow. She lifted her hips coaxing more wetness around his shaft and inch by devastatingly slow inch he entered her. 

 

\--------

 

“Oh, look who’s all chipper this morning.” Dorian quipped as Scarlett handed him a mug of coffee.

She had been surprised to find that they were the first ones to wake that morning. She took in the cool dawn air with a smile on her face, turning to him, wanting him to share in her enjoyment. She started a fire and decided she would also make breakfast. Cullen had watched as she pulled out a small board and made little squares of dough that she then plopped into hot oil. It sizzled and popped each time she dropped one in. From her pack, she pulled out a jar of preserves she had swiped from Haven’s kitchens before leaving. 

She handed Dorian one of the now cooled squares of fried bread. “Is it a written rule that I can’t have one good morning?” 

“Whazzat smell?” Sera poked her head out of her tent, bleary-eyed, but obviously excited about the prospect of food.

“Frybread. I made enough for everyone.” Scarlett their prepared plates, dolloping each with a measure of the jam. 

Once she was finished, she sat beside Cullen. “We need to discuss what we plan to do once we reach Therinfall.”

The abrupt switch from the woman who had only last night, this morning, been his lover to the woman everyone else knew as the Herald made Cullen frown down at her. “I… uhh… Of course.” 

She placed her hand on his arm, letting him know that she was aware things had changed between them. He looked into her eyes and she smiled. “We can’t let last night get in the way of what we still need to do. I doubt anyone in this camp will be quiet about what happened. We will have to maintain a professional front when in public. We can’t have it said that we shirked our duties in favor of an affair.”

An affair? Cullen didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t know what she meant by it. He was an intelligent man and knew the word held many connotations. Did she view what they were doing as some dalliance, some way to scratch her new itch? Maker, he didn’t think he could handle that, but he also couldn’t bring up the nerve to ask her for clarification. He simply nodded, feeling the control he was so good at maintaining slip through him.

“Good. Okay.” She pulled her hand from his arm.

 

\-------

 

The next few days were pleasant enough, but Scarlett and Cullen had yet to discuss her ‘affair’ comment. Ryder had been injured, taking a blow to the head, and Scarlett had stayed with him. He had hoped that she would show up once everyone had fallen asleep, but her concern for her friend kept her at his side. She was even riding in the same saddle with him. He didn’t have a horse and could hardly keep pace without one. Cullen would turn to find Ryder’s hands on her hips as he tried to maintain his position behind her. He could hear her lilting laughter as Ryder would whisper something in her ear. He knew it was foolish to be angry with the man. He knew he couldn’t tell Scarlett to ride with him. It wouldn’t be professional. And he knew if she were riding in his lap, he would surely be maintaining a constant hard-on. 

She pulled her mount next to his, just as he was imagining her rear rubbing against the front of him as his horse shifted. 

“Commander, we should reach Therinfall within the hour. Is there anything I should know?” There was that blasted question. The one she always asked ‘the Commander’. 

He knew he had flushed at her arrival because Ryder had a knowing smile. He was looking between the two of them like he was waiting for one of them to say something inappropriate. 

Cullen cleared his throat before speaking. “There should be a host of nobles awaiting our arrival. Lord Abernache will be the one speaking on behalf of those gathered. Our goal is to meet with the Lord Seeker. Ser Barris sent a missive just before we left, stating that strange things were beginning to happen within the Order. He was vague, likely not wanting to raise any suspicion should the letter be intercepted. All we know for sure is that he felt the Order was in danger.”

“That can’t be good.” Scarlett looked away from him, back to the road ahead. “Cassandra said she thought there was something off about the Lord Seeker when we left Val Royeaux. She said he didn’t even seem to be the same man. Could this just be about the Order breaking from the Chantry? Could he have changed so much in so little time?”

“I fear I know little about the Lord Seeker. I cannot speak to his motivations. All I know is that something isn’t right. If nothing else, maybe there will be some who follow us back to Haven regardless of the Lord Seeker’s decision. Many Mages have made their way there, not wanting to be a part of Fiona’s rebellion. I think you gave them the courage to take that step. Maybe I can do the same for the Templars.”

The look she turned on him could only be described as crestfallen. “In Val Royeaux, when I spoke to the Lord Seeker, I tried to appeal to the others. I told them one of their own commanded the Inquisition’s forces. They told me that your ties to me made you a traitor to the Order.” He could tell this was something she hadn’t wanted to tell him, even though Cassandra had already done so. He saw how the Lord Seeker’s words made her heart ache.

“They hate me, Cullen. They hate me enough to speak badly of you just for our association. Whatever trepidation I have about approaching the Order, it is not born out of unfounded fear of them. They fear me. Fear makes people reckless. If this goes badly, do you think that will change?” She looked as if she was awaiting his answer, but decided to press on. “If this goes badly, I will be known as the Mage who brought the Templar Order to its knees. I will be the Mage who took down the last defense against magic.”

Cullen could tell this had been weighing on her mind for some time. He could see it in the deep frown lines that framed her lips, in the stiff set of her shoulders. Shoulders that Ryder now held, massaging his thumbs into each side of her spine in slow circles. Dammit, those should be his hands chasing away her anxiety. He tried not to focus on it. Ryder was just trying to help his friend. 

“Not all in the Order feel the same as the Lord Seeker. Barris’ letter reflects that. He may have sent his letter to a former member of the Order, but he met you. He knows the Herald is a Mage. He knows who I serve.” He hadn’t meant to say the last out loud, and he turned from her then. It wasn’t untrue. She had been the final decision on most of the large issues the Inquisition had faced. Only Cullen’s own stubbornness had them riding to Therinfall. Cullen was accustomed to having a leader, not being a leader himself. At times he let himself forget that he was just as integral to this endeavor as she was. 

“Cullen, you don’t serve me. You advise me. You give me counsel. You hold my hand through the hard times.” Neither of them could stop their smiles at the shared memory. Her, bent over the bed, an arrow wound that was more than painful and his hand in hers as he gave her something else to focus on.

“Aww, you two are so cute. Are you going to get married and have babies now?” Scarlett’s swift elbow stopped the Mage from saying anything else on the subject.

“Hey, I’m an injured man. That was uncalled for.” Ryder complained, rubbing at the spot where her elbow had landed.

“You have been fine since this morning. And don’t act like you didn’t deserve it.”

Ryder winked at Cullen, making him feel like there was more to that elbow than he was aware of. Had he been riding her this entire trip? Had he been sitting behind her making lewd jokes about the night they spent together? He decided he didn’t want to know.

 

\--------------------------------

Before they could reach Therinfall, Cullen caught sight of a camp. From what he could tell, at a distance, there were multiple large tents spread out around multiple campfires. He assumed this to be the nobility they were supposed to be meeting, but he couldn’t imagine any of the nobles, especially those from Orlais, setting up camp in the Ferelden wilderness. 

As they approached, a rider came out to meet them. As the man came upon them, Cullen could see his wild fear filled eyes, the sheen of sweat and his stiff posture. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. He called to Scarlett. She joined him before the rider made it close and he whispered, “Something isn’t right. Look at him. He’s terrified.”

He watched Scarlett as she examined the rider. In her face, he could see that she saw what he saw. “This doesn’t bode well,” was all he heard her say before her voice was drowned out by the stomping beat of the rider’s horse. 

“Commander, Herald, we arrived last night. Lord Abernache had wanted to meet with the Lord Seeker before you arrived, hoping to garner some favor. We, none of us, were prepared for what we found when we arrived.” His face took on an ashen pallor. Cullen could see the man’s throat working as if trying to choke down something truly vile. 

“What has happened?” Scarlett asked. Her tone was calm, and a reassuring wave seemed to settle over the man and Cullen himself. He had to wonder if this was Scarlett’s magic at work. He wasn’t fully aware of her abilities, but spirit Mages often wield a different kind of magic than other users. 

“As I stated, we arrived last night. A group of us went to the gates, but there was no one there to greet us. We found this odd since only a few days ago we got word that there would be a meeting. We waited for some time, finally deciding it was best if we went ahead and set up camp. We brought provisions since we weren’t sure what the Lord Seeker intended. All was quiet for some time, but then we began to hear screaming. It sounded as if a pitched battle was coming from inside the fortress walls. A few of us went to scout out the area. That’s when I saw it.” A shiver ran through the man’s body and he brought a hand to his mouth as if holding back the bile he was desperately trying not to heave onto the ground. Cullen could hear the choking noises in the man’s throat, telling him his assumption was correct. 

“Please, go on.” Scarlett’s calm settled the man a bit.

“We saw the Templars, but there was something wrong with them. Their faces were lined with black veins, their eyes seemed hollow. These Templars were cutting down their own men. Then I watched as one of the grotesque Templars morphed into something like an abomination, only it had red crystals growing from its body. The crystals pulsed with light as if they were filled with blood.” The man brought his hands to his face, rubbing as if he could scrub the memory away.

“Red lyrium. The Templars here were using red lyrium.” Cullen didn’t recognize the growling voice that came from his own lips. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Red lyrium. Did these Templars learn nothing of the events that befell Kirkwall? 

Scarlett turned to him, he didn’t know if the stunned expression was from his comment or the force behind his words. At the moment, he didn’t care. “Cullen, I…”

“Don’t.” He forced out. “I need to see this for myself.” 

They rode into the camp, tying up their horses. Scarlett made some obligatory niceties before returning to him. “Okay, you and I will head to the keep. We will need to be somewhat stealthy, so the rest will stay behind. This is just a scouting mission. If we get there and find we can help, we will come back for the others.”

He nodded his assent, the only thing he was capable of at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is interested, the playlist to this story is on my Spotify.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/1210027068/playlist/0mEYDkIsnZqaUfNcwYtKJN


	14. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett and Cullen arrive at Therinfall to find nothing but devastation. What happens next, neither are prepared for.

“Oh, Maker! Cullen, I…” The sight that was Therinfall Redoubt would be forever etched into my brain. I have no words of comfort for the man standing next to me. Templar bodies litter the ground. There are so many of them. I try not to look at the bodies too closely, but it’s difficult not to see the scattered pieces of armor, the blood coating the walkway.

Cullen makes a step toward the keep, but I grip his arm, pulling him back to our hiding place. “Wait, Cullen, look.” I had caught movement within the keep’s gate. The sight was something born of nightmares. A hulking figure that seemed to be carved of red lyrium. It stalked to the gate and I could see one arm was thickly encased in the magical rock, giving the beast a solid lyrium hammer for a hand. 

“Maker’s Breath,” Cullen whispers beside me. 

“I am so sorry, Cullen.” I take his hand, lacing my fingers through his, but he just stares at our hands in numb silence.

“I don’t think we are prepared to take on something like that,” I state, trying to garner some response from him.

“Scarlett, I…” He starts, but his eyes are drawn back to the beast who has moved back to the keep’s interior. “Look, there are more.”

There weren’t more of the lyrium beasts, but there were more Templars. Even from this distance, it was easy to see the red crystals protruding from some of their backs, some of their arms. 

“Cullen, I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but I think it has become vital to return to Redcliffe. There doesn’t seem to be anything we can do here. I doubt the six of us could take on that many Templars, much less that creature.”

He turns to me, eyes wide and mouth held open. I can see shock is setting in and I want to get him away from here. I don’t want to see what he will do once it wears off. I can only imagine him charging the gate, sword drawn, bent on destruction. He is brave, this I know, and he is fierce, but I don’t want to lose him to some crazy need for vengeance.

I stand, and with our linked hands, pull him by my side. We are halfway to the noble’s camp before his voice comes back to him. “We must go back. We must see if there are survivors.”

“Cullen, we can’t take on those creatures. Not without backup. At this point, we can only hope those that lived had a chance to escape.” I can tell he wants to argue with me but I don’t give him the option. “If we walk in there, we will get ourselves killed. The Inquisition would lose its Herald and its Commander in one blow. The Breach remains, we must focus on that before we make any rash decisions based on what we saw here.”

“So, you would abandon the Order, just like that? You would ask me to walk away from my people without trying to help them?” He tried using my argument against me. He knew it wasn’t the same, but I could see his anger, his frustration. I knew he was seeking an outlet for it.

“Cullen, it’s not the same and you know it. We can’t risk walking in there, not knowing what we will be facing. Outside alone, there were more of them than there is of us. You and Varric have made me very aware of what red lyrium is capable of doing to a person. How many people did it take to bring down the Knight-Commander? And, even then, you had Hawke. She was a Battle-Mage, not a healer. Are you and Bull going to charge the gates, while Sera shoots her arrows at a beast made of pure lyrium? This fight would only bring more devastation.”

Cullen stands over me, staring down at me. I can see a battle going on behind his amber eyes. He knows what I am saying is true, but he can’t walk away. His pride and his devotion to the Order have always come first. 

Finally, he takes a breath, his eyes close as he turns from me. “Let’s gather the others. We need to reach Redcliffe as quickly as we can.”

 

\--------------

The camp is quiet that night. The weight of what we were about to do, of what Cullen and I had just seen settled over us all. I had made stew, but most of our bowls sat untouched. Slowly each person retired to their own tents until only I remained. I decided to prepare a missive for Leliana, detailing all that we had seen and let her know we were making preparations to meet with the Magister. I told her we would need to find a way into the castle that wouldn’t garner too much attention. I could act as a distraction while her men infiltrated the castle through other means. This had been decided as Cullen, Dorian and I went over what would need to happen when we arrived. 

I was finishing up my letter, ready to place my seal on the parchment when I heard Cullen’s voice. 

“No, be gone demon. Leave me.” He shouted through gritted teeth.

Maker, he must be having nightmares about what we saw

I finish sealing my missive and walk it over to the scout we had met just outside Therinfall. He told us that Leliana had instructed them to stay close and report back if anything should happen upon or arrival. The scout seemed to understand that he should approach and accept a report from either her or Cullen if anything were to go wrong.

I return to the camp and make my way to the Commander’s tent. Opening the flap, I can smell the sweat that clings to nearly every inch of his body. His arms fling forward, out to the sides. His legs kicking and his entire body straining as if someone has him pinned down. 

My heart breaks for him. I can’t imagine what he must be dreaming of. I knew my own dreams wouldn’t be pleasant this night, but to see what his Order had become... To see the bodies strewn about like fodder. I try to place myself in his shoes. How would I take seeing my entire circle decimated? How would I feel if we returned to Redcliffe to find the same devastation? Tears well in my eyes. I know there is one thing I can do for him. My touch should be enough to quell the storm of his ever-growing panic.

I make my way to the head of his bedroll, avoiding his increasingly violent limbs. I squat down, ready to place my fingertips along his temples. His fingers lock onto my arms. I hadn’t even realized he was reaching for me. His grip tightens every second. 

“No,” he screams. 

I can’t pull away. His fingers dig into my tender flesh. 

“Cullen, please Cullen. Wake up. You are hurting me.” The power behind his grasp is more than I would have imagined him capable of. He is normally so gentle. 

“Cullen, you’re scaring me. Please, wake up.” I beg him to open his eyes. My tears now for the pain I am in. I know if he doesn’t let go, he’s likely to break me. I can feel the muscles in my arm trying to tear, the bones grinding together. I let out a cry of pain, trying to hold back what I can, not wanting to alarm the others in camp. Maker, what would they think of him, if they saw this. Explaining the bruises in the morning would be bad enough.

At my cry, his eyes dart open. His grip loosens for a moment before he pulls me down, rolling on top of me. 

He lets out a growl of frustration. His eyes may be open, but he isn’t seeing me. A deep loathing sets the glowing amber aflame. “Demon, you will not have me.”

I fight back my growing panic. Focusing on my panacea, sending pulses through my body, willing to drain my mana to fight whatever has taken hold of his mind. I calm my voice, knowing some of my abilities lay within my spoken words. I need him to come back to the present.

“Cullen, look at me. It is me, Scarlett. No one is going to hurt you, but you are hurting me. Cullen, wake up. Look at me. Really look at me.” I send out another pulse of my magic, pushing through the barrier of his mind. I know this is dangerous, that I am on the verge of magic I have never wanted to tap into but the pressure of his body is becoming too much. 

Slowly, his eyes clear, his features soften. His breathing becomes labored as he comes back to himself. 

“Cullen,” I whisper tentatively.

His eyes snap to mine. He takes in my body trapped under his, his hands gripping my arms. A look of sheer horror replaces the relief he had just begun to show. He releases me, sitting back on his heels. 

“Oh Maker…” His hands cover his face and his body begins to rock. “Maker… Maker, what have I done?”

“Cullen…” I reach for him, but he pulls away.

“No. Leave me. I…” He collapses into himself, his shoulders shaking. He is crying.

“No. I’m not leaving. Cullen, you were having a nightmare. Whatever just happened, you can’t blame yourself.” This time he allows me to place my hand on his back. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. I begin making slow circles with my fingers. They slide fluidly along his skin, his body coated with sweat as it is. I decide to take it a step further. Moving behind him, I run my palms along the muscles of his back, massaging and trying to bring him some measure of comfort. It isn’t long before I am forced to stop. The pain in my arms not allowing me to continue. I pull his body into mine, wrapping my arms around his middle. I press my face into his neck, not caring about the wetness that now coats my cheek.

His hands find mine and he laces his fingers through. He leans into me letting me hold him. 

We stay like this for some time as his breathing returns to normal and the tightness in his muscles release. He shifts away from me, turning to sit on his bedroll. I remain where I am, not sure what to do in light of all that has happened. I want to kiss the hurt away from his eyes. I want to lay with him, hold him through the night. I want to assure him that I do not hold him responsible for hurting me. Yet, I am unsure if any of these things would be welcome. 

“Scarlett, I am so sorry.” His eyes finally raise to meet mine.

“Cullen, don’t apologize…” My words are quickly cut off.

“No, please let me say this. I should have warned you. I should have said something before I ever allowed you to spend a night in my bed. These… nightmares are not anything new. They have nothing to do with what we saw today. They have plagued me for years. Lyrium helps, but without it, they can be severe.” He looks at my arms, at the red marks that will surely be bruised in the morning. He shakes his head letting it fall forward. “I failed you, and for that, I will be forever sorry.”

“Cullen, don’t ever say that. You have not failed me.” I move to crouch in front of him taking his face into my hands. “You having nightmares in no way makes you a failure. Your life hasn’t been easy. None of our lives have been easy. You have faced true horrors. I understand. I am not upset with you. I care about you. This does nothing to change that.” I search his eyes for some understanding.

He takes my hands in his bringing them down to rest between us. “Do you mean that? Even after… “ His fingers play over the marks on my arm.

“It was scary, I will admit, but I knew what was happening. I knew that you weren’t meaning to hurt me. I could see it in your eyes. You didn’t even know I was there.” 

He smiles then, broken and tired but there all the same.

“You know, I may be able to help with your nightmares. That was what I was intending to do when I came in here. It won’t be a permanent solution, but as long as I’m with you, I may be able to stop them, or at least make them less intense. It won’t help when we return to Haven. I could hardly take up residence in your quarters or you in mine, but I will do what I can when I can.”

In an effort to prove my words true, I stand and remove my armor. Cullen watches me closely, no lust in his eyes, just uncertainty. In only my smalls, I make my way back to the bedroll and lay down. Cullen hesitates before laying beside me. He makes no move to touch me, so I pull his arm over my head so I can rest on his shoulder and that is all the invitation he needs to roll into me, wrapping his large body around mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have lived with someone who has night terrors. It can be terrifying. Keeping yourself calm can generate a sense of calm for that person. I hope that came across well in this scene.


	15. Aftermath and The Magister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett said she would be there for Cullen and she meant it. During the trip to Redcliffe castle, she does all she can to ensure he knows that.
> 
> Cullen realizes how much he cares for Scarlett, only to watch her vanish. In a moment she is gone, and he is left wondering if she will ever return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extreme jump in time. I am trying to avoid rehashing scenes we've all played a dozen times. Let me know if it is too jarring and I will avoid doing so in the future.

Cullen awoke for the second time with Scarlett in his arms. Her back was pressed against him, his arm held to her so tight. When he had come to with her body pinned under his, he knew she would hate him. He was certain she would be so frightened she would never look at him again. He couldn’t stop his shame, the tears rolling down his face. He was afraid to see her walk away, afraid to see the hatred mar her face, twisting it into someone he didn’t recognize. Yes, she’d been mad at him before, but this would be different. 

But that was not what she did. The compassion that filled her voice, her hands on his back as he fought to gain control, these he never expected. It brought on an all-new shame. She was so understanding, so sympathetic. How could she care for him when he’d hurt her again? She was more than he could ever hope for. 

Cullen buried his face in Scarlett’s wild tangles, breathing in her scent of lavender and fresh green herbs. He loved that she always smelled like that. It reminded him of her skills as a cook and how she always made them stop when she needed to restock her supplies, of her excitement when they came across rosemary or a large patch of elfroot. 

He didn’t realize he’d been breathing on her neck until she giggled.

“That tickles.” Her voice was thick with sleepiness. 

She rolled over to face him. “Good Morning, Cullen.” She lifted her head, kissing him tenderly. 

He returned the kiss, his hand on the small of her back bringing her as close to his body as possible. When she pulled away, he buried his face in her neck again. He wasn’t ready to look into her eyes. 

“Commander,” she said in that flirty sexy way she had days ago, and he felt his body respond, “are you trying to turn me on? Because you are succeeding.” Her hand began stroking along his back.

He pulled away slightly. “Scarlett, how can you…” her fingers on his lips stopped his words.

“No. You are not allowed to think like that. There will be no dwelling on what happened last night. It was an accident. Now I know and I will be prepared next time.” Her lips replaced her fingers, telling him to shut up. She wasn’t going to have any more on the subject.

He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips as she kissed him. 

\-----------------------------

Camp was packed away quickly. Scarlett wanted to make good time on the road. Her eagerness to see the nasty business of the Breach over with was matched in every person in the party. With the Templars no longer being an option, they all knew the negotiations with the Magister had to go down flawlessly. 

Scarlett stuck to Cullen’s side for most of the trip, always going over plans and rehashing strategy, or riding in companionable silence. With each mile that they drew closer to Redcliffe, the party grew more and more on edge. The plan, as it stood, was to offer Scarlett as bait. This sat well with no one. Sera kept suggesting all of the places she’d like to stick her arrows. Bull and Dorian grew ever more agitated with each other. Ryder suggested, on more than one occasion, that Cullen be the bait. 

“Ryder, it’s me they want. What good would it do to send Cullen in my stead?” 

This did not satisfy the Mage, and he glared at Cullen every time Scarlett shot the idea down. It wasn’t Cullen’s fault but it seemed Ryder needed someone to be mad at. 

The only good thing that came of the journey to the castle was the fact that Scarlett no longer felt the need to hide that she was sleeping in Cullen’s tent. As they said their goodnight’s she walked hand-in-hand with him to their bed. Every night she would massage his back until he felt drowsy. Then she would lay beside him and curl into his body. 

Maker, he didn’t know how he was going to give this up when they returned home.

She never made another mention of what happened. She ensured that when she left the tent, no one could see the marks Cullen had left on her body. He tried to forget, as she had said to, but one morning he found himself tracing her quickly fading bruises. He was amazed at how fast she was healing. When she woke to his touch, she frowned, quickly pulling the blanket over her arms. 

“Is that a part of your powers?” Cullen asked, not wanting her to think he was still dwelling on that night.

“What?” 

Her confusion made him laugh. “You heal so quickly.”

“Oh, yes. I don’t know how it works or why, but I have always healed quickly. When I am injured, it does take a toll on the amount of mana I can summon, but I don’t live with the injury long. It’s as if my body finds a balance with the two.”

“That’s amazing.” It was all he could think to say.

“Yeah, it is nice. It doesn’t make me immortal or anything, just a little harder to kill.” 

She had meant it as a joke, but the thought of her death was not something Cullen was ready to face. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Maker, please don’t make jokes like that. I’m worried enough about meeting with this Magister.” 

“Cullen, I’ll be fine. You’ll be there to protect me. I’m not worried.”

He wanted to believe that more than anything.

 

\--------------------

She’s gone. Vanished. 

Cullen stood, blade drawn on the Magister. It took everything he had not to cut Alexius down. “Where is she? What have you done with her?” He knew he should be concerned about Dorian as well, but he couldn’t. The Magister had sucked them both into what seemed to be another time rift. 

“It doesn’t matter. The Elder One comes. The Inquisition’s time is over. Without your Herald, Tevinter will rise again.” The Magister’s cocky tone grated on Cullen’s nerves. He brought his blade to the Mage’s neck. A small drop of blood pearled the tip of his blade. He knew no one here would stop him from killing the Magister, but he also knew this was the only man who held answers to the Herald’s whereabouts. He was not ready to believe she was dead.

Hours passed as the Inquisition soldiers held the Magister on the dais. Leliana and Fiona went over all of the possibilities of Scarlett and Dorian’s disappearance. The Grand Enchanter had little insight to give. She knew nothing of time magic. Felix, Alexius’ son, tried to help where he could, filling in some of the gaps of Fiona’s knowledge but in the end, they couldn’t come up with a solution for bringing Scarlett back.

“It is likely, she will have to find a solution on her own, wherever she ended up,” Fiona stated. 

Cullen knew Scarlett was resourceful. He knew she would do everything in her power to return if she could. And wherever she was, she was with Dorian, the only other person who may know how to change their situation. He had studied under Alexius. He knew this magic. He had stated as much upon his arrival to Haven. 

Leliana approached Cullen, “We cannot wait here forever. We must gather what Mages we can and try to seal the Breach.”

“What good would that do Leliana? Scarlett is gone. Without her, we have no way to close the rift. Solas has explained this many times. No ordinary magic affects them.” Cullen let his face fall into his hands. 

“We should at least head back to Haven. We will need to make preparations for what will come next.” 

“You go. I’m not leaving. I will have answers from this Magister or I will cut him down myself.” Cullen knew he shouldn’t let on about his feelings for Scarlett. He knew that people would question the Inquisition if it was found that two of its senior members were romantically involved. He also knew this would not be a secret he could hide from Leliana long. She was their Spymaster for a reason. She nodded her assent without any further questions and Cullen was thankful for that.

Cullen had no idea how long he sat on the stairs of the dais, praying to the Maker that she would return. His eyes were closed, head bowed in benediction, so he missed the green glow of the rift as it opened behind him.

“You’ll have to do better than that.” Dorian’s voice chimed from behind him. At first, Cullen thought he was hallucinating the Tevinter’s voice. He thought he had let his hopes get the better of him. Until he heard her.

“Is that all you’ve got?” 

He turned then. Dorian and Scarlett stood above the cowing Magister. Maker, how he wished he could run to her side, pull her into his arms. Instead, he watched the scene play out before him. Scarlett had no patience with the Magister, tearing into him, stopped only by Felix. He crouched down, begging his father to see reason. At this point, the Magister seemed only a broken man and Scarlett had the Inquisition soldiers take him prisoner. She turned to him then, a small smile on her face. She was about to rush toward him when the echo of boots, halted her steps.

King Alistair stood before them. He had come, not for the Inquisition, but for Fiona. He told the Grand Enchanter that the Mages were no longer welcome in Redcliffe. Fiona looked to Scarlett for only a moment before turning back to the King. She asked where they should go. What should she tell her people? Cullen could see the answer plainly written on Scarlett’s face. He knew what her answer would be. He knew she wouldn’t allow the Mages to suffer under another’s thumb any longer. He also knew he would have a lot to answer for when they returned to Haven.


	16. Uneasy Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She did it. She made an alliance with the Rebel Mages. Cullen knew it was coming, he had been preparing for this outcome since leaving Therinfall. 
> 
> But what concerned him more was her disappearance. The fact that she had been sucked through time. He couldn't bring himself to ask her about it. He found he truly didn't want to know. He had almost lost her, and just as he was finding he couldn't live without her. How foolish is he? To fall for the one woman who would most certainly be risking her life every day for their cause.

“You know Cassandra won’t be happy about this and Leliana won’t like that you didn’t use your power to gain the upper hand with the Mages,” Cullen states as he paces the small interior of our tent.

“Cullen, you know me. You know I couldn’t allow them to think they were our prisoners. If I had conscripted them, they may have turned us away. I know I would. I wanted to let them feel they had a choice. King Alistair made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with them anymore. I’ve been in their shoes. I know what it feels like to be treated as other, simply for being born different. Even you had the same reaction to me when we first met. You’ve spent your life surrounded by Mages, but how many times have you discounted them as people? How many times have you looked at them and seen only monsters?” My frustration is growing, yet, I know it’s not with the man in front of me, but at his words. They only proved to remind me what the rest of Thedas would surely see. I am just another Mage bent on helping my people regardless of the cost. My words had freed the Mages as nothing else would. I am The Herald of Andraste and my word is law.

How did this happen, I find myself asking again. My brain formulates no answer.

Cullen takes my hands in his. I hadn’t even heard him approach. “Scarlett, that was not what I meant. You are right. I did know this would be the eventual outcome. I knew that when we reached Therinfall. I knew it when we entered Redcliffe. I just want you to be prepared to hear the arguments I know to be coming.”

He seems sincere, but I know how he feels about Mages. I know he has his own reservations. “Tell me honestly, how do you feel about the alliance?”

“I trust your judgment. I know that there will need to be safeguards in place to protect the people of Haven and the Mages. Demons are spewing out of the Fade. Chances of possession are higher than normal. We can’t assume all of the Mages coming with Fiona are as strong as the ones who are already in Haven.”

I had to give him credit for the tactful response. I knew he wouldn’t want to see Mages overrunning his home. He had just escaped Kirkwall and all that befell the city. I try to smile, but I know it’s not sincere. “That would probably be best. Maybe we can find some Templars who escaped the Lord Seeker. We should inform Leliana to keep her scouts on the lookout. But Cullen, we will have to ensure these Templars understand they are not to treat the Mages unkindly. They will be allies.”

“I will do my best to ensure that they do.” He returns my insincere smile with one of his own. Neither of us is fully content with this new understanding. Our reservations about either side place us in a very uncomfortable position. 

“Can we not dwell on that now? We have a few days before we reach Haven and I’d like to enjoy them before we assault the Breach.”

“Of course.” Cullen places a hesitant kiss on my cheek before we step outside and greet our newest additions to the forward party.

\-------------

The Mages, who had come to accompany our party in the first wave into Haven, all sat about their own fire. They didn’t seem to want to be too close to Cullen. He had tried to be friendly but he didn’t know what to say to them. He resorted to his military ways, explaining what would be expected of them upon arrival. They listened but gave no motion to proceed with the conversation. When he walked away, I could see each one visibly relax now that they were no longer under his scrutiny. 

“Don’t worry. They will need time to get used to your presence.”

Cullen smiled tightly as he sat down beside me. His hand reached up to massage the back of his neck. I couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. I was so used to that motion being a response he reserved for me. When I looked back to the Mages, they were looking between the two of us. I could see confusion mixed with apprehension. It was easy for them to tell we were friends. Beyond that, they could only speculate. They had seen us emerge from the same tent earlier, but as far as they knew we had only been having a conversation out of sight of the others in camp.

I must admit, their scrutiny made me want to take Cullen in my arms and kiss him. What would they do then? Would they be revolted? Would they question my judgment? I realized I didn’t care. 

I let out a heavy sigh. “This isn’t going to be easy. We can’t force them to get along. I only hope we can be an example to them. I know we can’t parade about like lovebirds, but we can at least show them our friendship.”

Cullen turns to me, his eyes filled with uncertainty. Maker, I hate it when he looks at me like that. It makes me want to chase away any doubts he has. I’ve held him through his nightmares. I’ve told him how much I want to be with him. Why does he always doubt me?

“Cullen, I adore you. I adore everything about you. You are brave, strong, and fierce. And you are kind, gentle, and compassionate. You fight for what you believe in. You fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. You are a good man. I am proud to be yours. All I mean is that we have priorities. We have to be able to attend War Room meetings, deal with the Chantry, and be the Herald and Commander most hours of the day. But the hours that we don’t have duties to perform, I am yours. Closing the Breach doesn’t guarantee that the other rifts will close. I imagine my duties as Herald won’t be over when the Breach is sealed.” And I have yet to tell him about my experience in the ‘Future Thedas’. Maker, I don’t want to tell him. His reaction to seeing the Red Templars at Therinfall was bad enough. He’s been too distracted to even ask me about it. 

When I turn to look at him again, the look of uncertainty has been replaced with his mask of armor. I am unsure what I have said to make him shut down the emotions that have played so freely over his face in the last few days, but it nearly draws out my ire. I am ready to yell at him, punch him, something to take that blank look off of his face when he speaks.

“I thought you were gone.” He whispers. His hands cover his face. “Maker, I thought I had lost you. I was ready to kill the Magister. Now, I have to let you be the Herald. I have to let you close the Breach. We don’t know how it will affect you. You are always going to be at the forefront of the dangers we face, and we know the Templars will need to be dealt with at some point.” He turns to me then, bringing his gloved hand to my face. “Scarlett, I believe you will one day be the death of me, and I find I am quite alright with that. Just know, whatever you are doing, wherever you are going, you carry my heart with you. Do try to be careful with it.” 

 

\------------

As Cullen and I make our way to our tent, I feel happier than I have in my entire life. I know I am falling hard for this man but his words by the fire had my heart soaring. We had sat quietly next to each other, listening to the others talk and enjoying the company. We ate. We drank. And it took everything in me not to pull Cullen into the tent and make love to him. To be riding the high his words had built within me, instead of the demands of the mark. 

Once the flap closed behind him, I pulled his body to mine. My lips sealed over his and this time, I poured my soul into the kiss. I need him to feel what I am feeling. I need him to know that I am his, mind, body and soul. 

I pull away and begin removing my armor, keeping my eyes on his. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he watches me undress. His arms cross in front of him, not guarded, but waiting. He knows I am putting on a show for him and he wants to enjoy it. It is not until I stand bare before him that he makes any move to undress. It is times like these that I hate all of the armor he wears. He moves slowly, just as I had, watching me watch him. 

When he stands naked before me, I finally get a moment to take in his entire body. I know I have seen it many times but always in the heat of the moment, always with something to distract me from the pure enjoyment of having a man like him bare to my touch. I close the distance between us, placing my hands on his chiseled stomach. Every inch of him is muscle, his training allowing for nothing else. 

“Maker, Cullen. You are beautiful.” I know that seems odd to say to a man, but there is no other word that could suffice. 

“Beautiful? I don’t think anyone has ever called me that before.” His hands find my waist. Neither one of us in a rush. 

“Well, then anyone who has had you standing naked before them and didn’t say it, is an idiot.” I glide my hands from his waist, over his thick shoulders, down his arms. My fingers running along the veins that course the length of his upper arms, down to his wrists. His eyes never leave me as I examine his body, wanting the memory of this moment to be etched into my mind forever. 

Taking his hand, I guide him to our bedroll. I lay down, pulling him down with me. He kisses me, softly, tenderly. His hands explore my body, much as I had his moments ago. Both of us content to just be in the moment. 

His lips find mine and again, the kiss is sweet. He places these reverent kisses along my jaw, my neck. His fingers slide from my waist to my breast and without the ache of the mark, the touch sends slow tendrils of pleasure along my body. There is no urgency to his touch, no demand from his body and I find I like this. I have never had someone I could make love to. Anytime before this, it has always been about demand, need. This was different. This was about two people wanting to express their care and devotion to each other. It is nearly enough to make the words leave my mouth, but I am unsure if I am ready to say them, or him ready to hear them. We have only been together a few weeks, granted a lot had happened in those few weeks, and even before then, I developed strong feelings toward this man. Our lives, since the day I fell from the Fade, had been intertwined with turmoil. I have experienced a well of emotions toward him, rage, passion, concern, even sadness. These were all more than I have ever felt for another person in my entire life. 

“What are you thinking?” He asks, pulling me from my thoughts. 

I smile. Maker, I want to tell him. I want to say the words, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “That I am a lucky girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to believe there are moments when Cullen is eloquent. We saw it with Alistair but weren't given many moments of it with Cullen. I wanted them to realize their feelings before she assaulted the Breach. I think it makes his reaction to finding her in the snow a bit more compelling.


	17. Return to Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is about to find out that Scarlett's strength has its limits. She's held it together for so long, but how much can one person take before everything they've been through catches up with them. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZAs5K7L8KA
> 
> This is the song that prompted this scene.

Scarlett stayed true to her word. Even though others had joined the party, she slept in their tent every night. Cullen saw the looks the Mages turned on her, and he was fairly certain she saw them as well, but she didn’t seem to care. It wasn’t until he overheard a group of them talking that he understood the glares, the whispers.

“Can you believe it? Do you really think, even with her rank, that they would place her under a Templar guard?”

“He was the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall. Do you think he binds and shackles her when they enter the tent?”

“She’s the Herald of Andraste. She offered us freedom, but it seems she isn’t free herself.”

Maker, is that what they thought? 

He walked away from them, not sure if they had noticed his retreat. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t approach the gossiping Mages directly. They probably wouldn’t believe him if he did. He wanted to tell Scarlett if only to ensure the glares were not for her, but for him. Had they not noticed the moment the two had shared the first night out by the fire? How could that be misinterpreted? 

He was so lost in thought that he nearly barrelled over Scarlett on his way to find her. 

“Woah, Cullen. Slow down. What’s wrong,” she asked.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell her what the Mages were thinking but he didn’t even know how to broach the subject. He began pacing in front of her, hand massaging at the tension he always felt in these moments. 

“They…” he pointed in the direction of the group of Mages. “They don’t think we are together. They actually think I am here as a Templar. They think the Inquisition sent me to guard you.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would they think that?” She crosses her arms over her chest, and a smile curves her lips. She didn’t seem to be taking him seriously. 

“I heard them say it. Scarlett, if they think that, if they think they are coming under false pretenses, this could ruin any chance of them taking this alliance seriously.” Maker, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Sure, he hadn’t exactly been kind to this new group, but they’d hardly allowed it. He had tried speaking to them, but they wouldn’t interact with him. Now, he knew why. 

“No. I won’t let that happen. Let me go talk to them. I can set this straight.”

Cullen nodded, not sure what else to do and watched her as she approached the small group. He knew his time spent in Kirkwall would forever be a black mark against him, but Scarlett had seen past it. He knew not every Mage would be as forgiving or understanding as her, but he had hoped that being by her side would maybe make this situation easier. He was also very quick to forget Scarlett’s initial reaction to him. She looked at him much like these Mages in their first few encounters. Not sure if she could trust him, not sure if she wanted to trust him. 

He couldn’t hear what Scarlett was saying to the group, but he noticed when a few of them tossed looks his way. From what he could tell, the ‘talk’ wasn’t going so well. Scarlett tensed at something one of the Mages said, her hands began making exaggerated gestures. He remembered the last time he’d seen her like that. He had just suggested that they ‘deal with the Mages’ at a later date. What could they have said to get her angry? He was about to walk over to the group when Scarlett turned on her heel and headed back to him. 

“Well, you were right. They think you are my jailor and that I offered a false alliance. They think that when we return to Haven you will have Templars ready to shackle them.”

Cullen opened his mouth to speak, but Scarlett had other ideas. She tugged on his fur mantle pulling him into her body. Her mouth covered his. Her kiss was so full of fire, so heated that he couldn’t help but return it, regardless of what brought it on. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her ever closer. Her fingers slid into his curls and she tugged gently, pulling a moan from deep within his belly. When she pulled away, her smile was wicked, full of arrogance and pride. 

Scarlett had just claimed him. There was no doubt about that. 

She turned back to the Mages, most of them stunned by her outburst, but it wouldn’t match the looks that came after her next words. “That’s why we share a tent, you dumb-fucks!”

Cullen bowled over in a fit of laughter. Herald of Andraste, indeed.

\------

The next day, our group headed back to Haven. Scarlett was quiet during the journey, but Cullen didn't need to ask why. Her apprehension was clear on her face. He couldn't imagine what must be going through her mind. After the confrontation with the Magister and her growing irritation with our new allies, she no doubt, had more than enough to sift through. He still hadn’t asked her about what happened when she went through to the portal. He assumed she would tell him when she was ready. She had said she wanted to enjoy the return trip home, maybe she would tell him when they got to Haven.

As soon as their party came within sight of Haven trumpets sounded to announce their arrival. People came pouring out of every corner. News must have spread about the new alliance because Cullen noticed that many of the faces that came to greet them were curious workers, recruits and a few new faces he didn’t recognize. Two stable hands came to take Cullen’s and Scarlett’s horses and before her feet could even hit the ground, she was surrounded. Cassandra came first, nearly dragging her along with her to the gates of Haven. People wanting to greet the Herald came with offers of “Your Worship” and “Herald, it’s so nice to meet you”. Mages approached the party, taking in our newest members. Cullen watched as the Rebel Mages met those already in Haven. He could sense the apprehension leaving the ones who had accompanied them there. A few tossed apologetic smiles his way and he nodded at each in turn.

As soon as he dismounted his horse, a scout was there with new reports for him to look over. Most were accounts of new recruits, joining while he was away. The rest were field reports. This time, he could let those sit and wait, for he knew what they contained. Raven’s had flown to meet them at each forward camp and what he wasn’t informed of, he was part of. He made his way to his tent, ready to have himself a moment's reprieve before assuming his role of Commander, but that was too much to ask. As he stretched out on his cot, he was summoned by Leliana. He should have known she would want to be debriefed immediately upon their arrival.

He made his way to the Chantry, pushing open the massive oak doors, and into the War Room. He had assumed Scarlett would be there as well. 

“Commander, we received your report about Therinfall.” Cullen didn’t know what Leliana was talking about, he hadn’t sent a missive about what happened there. Scarlett must have sent what information she could when everyone else had gone to bed.

“Sc… The Herald’s report, you mean?” Back, less than an hour and her name was already slipping from his lips. He would have to ensure that he did not do that in front of Josephine. She would have his head if she thought he was disrespecting her title. 

“Yes, the Herald’s report. She mentioned red lyrium. Is it true that the entire Order has fallen? How could this be?” 

Cullen didn’t know how to respond to the question. He was still as baffled by the events of Therinfall as anyone else. “We saw the creatures there. There were no Templar bodies left standing.”

“This isn’t good.” Leliana’s hand came to her mouth, and Cullen wondered if she didn’t have gloves on would she be biting her nails. “We received only broken reports of what happened in Redcliffe. There was no mention of what happened to the Herald when she went through the rift.”

Shit. He should have known this would be what Leliana wanted to know above all else. “Uh… She has not told me what happened during that time. We never really got a chance to talk about it.”

“I suppose she would have been busy with the Mages accompanying you. We will just have to question her about it later. Now, about the alliance with the Mages, I am surprised you didn’t step in and ensure she conscripted them in the Inquisition’s service. You allowed her to offer a full alliance.” He watched a knowing look play over Leliana’s features. 

“Ah… yes… I felt that it was her decision to make. I knew I could not offer an unbiased opinion on the matter and I knew she would do what she felt was right, given that it was she who suffered at the Magister’s hand and not I.” His fingers combed through his hair. He knew he was probably letting on about his feelings for Scarlett with that statement but he couldn’t say that he trusted her because he cared for her. 

“Well, we will talk more about it in the morning. She is now working with Solas and Cassandra on how they plan to close the Breach. The Mages should be here in two days and in that time we should have what we need to ensure we are as successful as we can be.” 

Cullen nods in acknowledgment and leaves the Chantry. 

\---------------

It was nightfall before Cullen had a moment to look for Scarlett. He had thought he’d find her with Varric or Sera but she wasn’t in the tavern, she wasn’t out by Varric’s tent. Maybe she was too exhausted to catch up with the dwarf or play a few hands of Wicked Grace. 

He headed to her small cabin. Her fire was lit and a few candles cast wavering light against the curtains of her windows. This didn’t always indicate she was inside. For all he knew, she may have gone outside the gates. She had a tendency to disappear in the past. Leliana always seemed to know where she was, but he never did. Leliana hadn’t given any indication of her hiding spots either. 

He was approaching the door when he heard the voices within. 

“You have to tell him, Scar.” Ryder’s voice.

“Ryder, I can’t. Didn’t you see him at Therinfall? This would crush him. I can’t do that to him.” Her voice was laced with pain, but her words caused his heart to constrict. What were they talking about? Him, no doubt, but what was she not telling him. 

“If he finds out from someone else, don’t you think it will hurt him more?” 

Maker, what was he suggesting. Could they be… surely not. 

“Ryder, I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this. It’s all too much. I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He could hear the agony in her voice. It pulled him into the room. The two people on the bed jumped. Both with guilty looks on their faces. Heat rose in Cullen’s cheeks as he took in the scene before him. Scarlett and Ryder were holding hands. He sat on her bed, shirtless, with his free arm wrapped around her shoulders. 

A rage like no other, built in his gut. He was ready to cut the man next to Scarlett down. He had thought they were building something beautiful, something that would see them both through the hell they’d fallen into. Now, he was certain, it was all for nothing. That she had used him. 

“Cullen, I…” Scarlett started speaking but he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. He took a step to the Mage at her side. 

“Maybe I should let you guys talk.” Ryder released Scarlett and moved to stand but Cullen loomed over him, making it impossible.

“Woah, Commander. This isn’t what you think. I know it must look bad, but you’ve got the wrong idea. She was just needing to talk.”

“Yes, she needed to talk with you, and you lost your clothing in the process.” The growl that left his lips could have rivaled the one he’d let loose at Therinfall.

The Mage actually blushed. It was not the response he was expecting and it made Cullen take a harder look at his surroundings. While Ryder may be half dressed, Scarlett still wore her armor. She hadn’t changed or bathed since returning. Her face was tear soaked, and in her palms was the Mage’s shirt. It was coated in snot and tears. This brought his anger down a few pegs but amplified his confusion. 

Ryder rose to his feet and Cullen allowed it, moving so the half-dressed man could make his way out her door. He had a moment to feel a bit of satisfaction that Ryder would be stepping out into the cold with nothing guarding him against the onslaught of the Frostbacks when the Mage’s skin glowed with a faint red light. The same spell Scarlett had used to heat his body in the pool. The memory, which had been a pure and beautiful one moments ago, now made him feel sick.

Both Cullen and Scarlett waited for Ryder’s footsteps to recede before looking at each other. 

“Talk,” Cullen growled.

“Cullen, I’m sorry.” Tears sprang to her eyes.

Cullen found that he wanted to comfort her, but he held his ground. He needed to know what Ryder had been talking about. What wasn’t she telling him? “If you aren’t cheating on me, then I need to know what that conversation was about.”

“How much did you hear?” She twisted Ryder’s shirt around her fingers, pulling the fabric taut around her hand bearing the mark.

“Enough to know I should be concerned. There’s something you don’t want to tell me. Something you think I won’t take well.” 

Her eyes met his and he could see the heartbreak, the true sorrow clear on the surface. She didn’t speak, but he felt his mouth go dry, his heart constrict. He stood there, fighting every muscle in his body that wanted to take her in his arms, to hold her and chase whatever plagued those beautiful eyes away.

She took a deep breath and moved her body to the head of her bed, resting her back against the wall. “We were talking about what happened at Redcliffe, about what I saw when the Magister sent me forward in time. I was offered a taste of the consequences should we fail to seal the Breach.”

“And you saw something that you don’t want to share with me?” Cullen could feel the tension in his body release. He knew this revelation should have such an impact on him, but it couldn’t measure the relief he felt. What she was hiding was knowledge, rather than something she’d done. 

He sat down on the edge of her bed, not ready to fully take her into his arms. His mind was still swimming with thoughts of what he had assumed she’d done. “Tell me,” the words came out as a whisper.

She looked into his eyes and he could see fresh tears brimming on the surface. His heart hurt for her. What could she have seen that would make her break down like this? She had been so strong through so much. She hadn’t flinched away from closing the Breach the first time. She walked into battle daily. She had even had enough nerve and will to bring him out of his nightmares while he had her pinned under his body. 

“Scarlett, please. I need to know what you saw.”

“I watched Leliana die,” she whispered weakly, the tears rolling down her cheeks in a steady stream. She brought Ryders shirt to her face and buried her shame. 

He had thought she would stop there but when she pulled the wet fabric away, the words she had been holding back poured out of her. 

“I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save anyone. I had to stand and wait, watching, as the Venatori cut down what was left of our people. The future that the Magister sent us to, it showed us what would happen if I fail to close the Breach. The Elder One plans to bring a demon army to decimate Thedas. He is going after Empress Celene.” She stopped then and Cullen could tell shock was setting in, taking its hold on her.

“I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be responsible for so many lives.” She lifted the shirt to her face again, but there were no tears to wipe away.

Cullen realized then that she was using the shirt as a small comfort, taking in the scent of her friend. “Do you want me to ask Ryder to come back?” He hated asking her this, but if it was what she needed, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her.

“No,” she answered meekly. 

Cullen felt a small measure of relief settle over him. He knew that hearing her say that, in this moment, shouldn’t have been first on his mind. He knew it was petty, but he’d already lost her once. He wasn’t sure he could handle it again.

She sat, rocking her body gently, gazing off into nothing. He didn’t know what to do. He had never seen her so broken.

Finally, he decided he could do for her what she had done for him. He stood, making his way to the head of the bed. He slid his arms under her and lifted her to her feet. She looked into his eyes, uncertain of what he intended to do but he said nothing. His fingers found the buckles of her leathers, undoing each one slowly, almost as if asking permission to continue, and she made no move to stop him. He pushed the jacket off of her shoulders, taking the shirt from her hands and placing it on the bed. He lifted her tunic over her head and removed her breast band. Gently he lifted her onto the bed, removing her boots, leggings, and smalls. She lay naked before him. He quelled the fire that tried to build inside of him at the sight of her bare form. 

Stepping away from her, he looked around the small room. He gathered her water jug, basin and hairbrush. He found a clean rag and her worn sleeping tunic. He sat them all on her table beside the bed. 

“Think you can manage a warming spell,” he said as he brought the jug to her.

Dipping her fingers into the lip of the jug, she cast her spell. Cullen could feel the jug warming under his hands. When she was satisfied with the temperature, she let her arm fall back to her side. Cullen brought her one chair to the edge of the bed, lifting her once more and placing her in the center. He dipped the rag into the warmed water. When he brought it to her shoulders, he was rewarded with a slight stretch of her lips. He wouldn’t call it a smile, but it was a start. He was thorough, cleaning every inch of her. When he was finished with her body, he pulled her head back along the top of the chair. He undid the band holding her hair in a messy braid. With slow, soft strokes he ran the brush through her hair. He worked out the tangles until her red hair glistened like refined silk. With her head tilted back, he poured a slow stream of water over her curls. 

When he had finished, he found another clean rag to dry her hair. He slipped her tunic on, pulling her arms through himself. Then he lifted her back onto the bed, pulling her blanket over her. He placed Ryder’s shirt back into her hands, telling her he knew it was a comfort and he didn’t mind. 

He undressed down to his smalls and climbed into the bed beside her. His hand slid under her tunic, tracing small circles on her back as she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett's downward spiral isn't quite finished.


	18. The Temple of Sacred Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett makes a rash decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to my friend Kirstie for the assist here. She helped me plot this one out ;)

I awoke in the middle of the night with Cullen’s body wrapped around mine. His face is so peaceful and serene. A juxtaposition to my inner turmoil. I had thought that my experience in Redcliffe would be something I could bury and ignore. It didn’t mean anything. It was a future that would never come. The Inquisition wouldn’t allow it to happen.

The full impact of those events didn’t set in until I realized how much the man beside me meant to me. I had loved before. I love Ryder. I love my family. But none of that could compare to the overwhelming passion, the constant desire, the burning need I feel with Cullen. 

And it’s not just him. When I first came to Haven, most people hated me or didn’t know what to think of me. Now, I’ve established a new kind of family. Sera, the younger sister I never had. Dorian, a true and loyal friend. Bull, a man who never fails to have my back, regardless of the situation. Varric, a dwarf with a true heart of gold, no matter what he would have you believe. Cassandra, who is always looking out for me, ensuring no one gives me lip or questions my actions. She had even stood up to Cullen on my behalf in the beginning. Josie, always ensuring I feel safe and wanted. Leliana, a confidant, even if in the beginning it was more out of a desire to know everything she could about me. She had even begun to confide in me, as well. Solas, who never missed an opportunity to teach me new and exciting things. Then there are Blackwall and Vivienne. Both are so guarded that it seems I will never really be friends with either one. Both seem to have motivations for being here that they will never allow me to understand. Even so, they have joined ranks with me and help me to see things from a perspective other than my own. I respect them for that if nothing else.

Now, I have Fiona and the Mage Rebellion to look after. When it was just me and mine, it was easier to let events play out as they would. I knew that no matter what I did, these people would be there to assist in furthering my efforts or talk me down from whatever ledge I had attempted to climb. I had become so used to their easy trust, to their willingness to see this through, that I hadn’t even thought about the Mages questioning my motivations. With them, I had been forced to make a show of my loyalties. Granted, the way I went about it was hardly diplomatic. I was so tired of everyone seeing Cullen the way they did. First with the Lord Seeker, then the Mages that followed us to Haven. He had shown me he was more than the events that befell his city, but he couldn’t change the way most Mages would feel about him. So, I forced the issue. I took it upon myself to show them this former Templar had no ill will where Mages were concerned. 

On the return trip to Haven, it became more and more apparent what I would be used for. The Herald of Andraste, their savior. I would be the person who stood between them and total destruction. I would be the symbol that everyone looked to. I would be their lone guardian from the abyss. And if I didn’t succeed, I would be the woman who failed all of Thedas. I would be the person who allowed the Breach to swallow the world. I would become the woman who let all of these people be taken by The Elder One and turned into food for his army. An army that would be bolstered by a host of demons. The very demons who were now pouring out of the Fade.

It is too much. This is all too much. I can’t be this woman. I have to stand and fight, but there is nothing stopping me from doing it all on my own terms. 

I know what I need to do. I can’t have any more people dying when I can make the sacrifice needed to save them all. I will not fail them.

 

\--------------------------

Cullen stretched his arm, seeking the woman he was sharing a bed with. It came up empty. He opened his eyes, rolling over, thinking he would find her standing by the fire, or maybe reading in her chair. He searched the tiny room but found no sign of her. He stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He took another slow look around the room. Lying on the table next to him was a piece of paper with his name on it. He smiled thinking she had known he would wake and find she was gone. She didn’t want him to worry. She was always thoughtful. He opened the folded parchment.

My Dearest Cullen,  
I know what I must do, and I hope you will forgive me. Please remember that you are strong and capable, you have the heart and the will to fight this fight. Know that you have made me so happy. I can only hope that when I am gone you will find it in your heart to share that happiness with someone else. You deserve every bit of joy that comes your way. I know in my heart, I was meant for this. If by some miracle I survive, know I will come back to you. My heart will always seek yours.  
Yours Forever,  
Scarlett

Cullen’s heart sank. His gut ached. What was she saying? This sounded much like a suicide note. But, no, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? He took another look around the room. Her armor was gone, as was her staff. He threw the blankets aside and dressed as quickly as he could, cursing the amount of armor he always wore. He needed to get to her. He had an idea of where she was going, he only hoped he could make it there in time.

\--------

The cold bites through my newly acquired cloak. I hadn’t had time to plan for much else. I send a pulse of warming magic through my body, but find myself sinking deeper into the snow. I should have thought to take a horse, but it’s too late now. I can see the Temple just ahead. The mark on my palm aches. I can feel the pulses from the rift in time with each step. It is as if the Breach is calling to me, to it. It won’t be long now, I tell the glowing rift. You will be united with your maker soon enough. I laugh inwardly at the thought. The Breach won’t be the only one united with their Maker. 

I crest the steps of the Temple. My steps no longer hindered by knee-deep snow. The path has remained cleared since the explosion. I don’t envy whoever’s job it is to ensure this result. Standing next to this thing can’t be easy for anyone. 

The entrance to the Temple looms before me. It is calling me to my death. I know this. I know I will not survive this encounter, but I can save everyone by facing it. I am ready. I will not see all of this, all of Thedas fall to the fate that awaits them upon my failure. It will all be over soon. My friends will not have to face another day in fear of what is to come. Cassandra and Cullen will be able to handle the Red Templars. Josie will see that the Inquisition doesn’t lose standing with me gone. Leliana will be able to smooth over any questions about my death. All will be okay. 

I make my way through the winding path to the Breach. The red lyrium makes me ache for Cullen’s presence, but I know he would never allow me to do this. He would ask that I wait for the assistance of the Mages. But I realized he was right. How could I bring an army of Mages to fight demons? What kind of danger was I placing them all in by requesting their aid with the Breach? I was willing to open them up to possession to save myself. That is unworthy of someone deemed The Herald of Andraste. She submitted to the flames. I can do no less. 

I take the last jump into the pit of the Temple. My shaky knees causing me to fall onto my hands. It sends a jolt through my body, the ache spreading through my shoulders and back. It doesn’t matter. I will not be in pain for long. I remove my cloak, letting the chilled air settle into me. It is always easier to think with the frost icing the other thoughts in my head. 

I stare into the Breach. Figures pulse and undulate on the other side. They aren’t clear but it is easy to decipher many of the shapes within. I have faced the pride demons, lighting aching from their plated bodies. The horns of a desire demon come into view. I haven’t encountered their like, but I remember my studies well enough. Others shift and roll within the green light but I have no desire to entertain any of them. 

I say a small prayer, hoping my sacrifice will garner this Mage some favor with the Maker. Magic exists to serve man. What better way to serve than this? “Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.” The words leave my mouth. I have heard these words turned against Mages many times. But they now hold a new meaning to me. I will not falter in this. I will stand and fight. I will see this end. I will be the balm against the darkness. 

I take my position under the Breach and lift my palm, welcoming my death and the salvation of all I hold dear. I can feel the instant recognition in the anchor. The Breach pulses through me. I will it to close, only my thoughts connecting the mark to the giant rift. 

Pain lanced through my side, hard and heavy. My body is thrown to the ground. I can only think a demon has escaped my notice and I fight the armored body on top of me. 

Wait. Armor. Demons don’t wear armor. I pull back the Mind Blast, just in time. 

“Maker, Scarlett. What in the void were you thinking?” Cullen’s voice shakes above me. His breathing is labored as if he’d been in a fight or possibly running.

“Cullen, please. I need to do this.” I try to push him off of me but he keeps me pinned. 

He glowers down at me. The anger twisting his features into the man I couldn’t find common ground with at the beginning of all of this. It makes my heart hurt, but I can’t let it sway me from my calling. I know I have to do this.

“You don’t understand. I can’t let this happen. I can stop this. I won’t let what happened in Redcliffe come to pass. I won’t see this world corrupted. I won’t let anyone else fall when I have the power to fix this.” I fight his restraining hands, but it is no use. He is much stronger than I am. His weight only adding to the grip he has on my arms.

“What good will you be to us if you close this rift but leave dozens of others? What will happen if you die and we are all left to fight this battle on our own? What good will you have done if all hope dies with you? Can you not see the effect this will have on everyone in Haven?” His eyes soften, but his scowl remains.

“Cullen, you were right. I made a mistake. I can’t ask the Mages to come to a place where they are sure to feel the pull of demons. I can’t assume they will not fall victim to corruption because they think our cause just. The Mages that came with us didn’t know what to expect but when they saw you -- saw a Templar -- amongst our ranks, they panicked. What’s to stop the rest from doing the same?” 

A well of emotion builds in his eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. He lets out a long sigh, his body relaxing by minute amounts. “Scarlett, you can’t do this. I know I said some harsh things, but I have faith you will see us through. All the Mages need to see is you standing before them. You have already given hope to so many. You were right to offer an alliance. If they had come as our prisoners, we may have stood little chance of them assisting beyond the Breach. They may have even failed to close the Breach until their standing within the Inquisition changed. Please, don’t give up hope. We all need you. I need you.”

His mouth seals over mine, and that one action alone did more for my troubled mind than any of his words. I could fight. I could wait. For the love of this man, to not lose it, I am almost certain I would do almost anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this. I kept imagining what I would do in this situation and panic was the first thing to come to mind.


	19. In Your Heart Shall Burn Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for Scarlett to seal the Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be told in parts, due to some things being from Cullen's perspective and others from Scarlett's.

Over the next few days, Cullen kept his eye on Scarlett. He noticed a drastic change in her demeanor from the moment she woke following her episode at the Temple. She became calculated, focused, determined. Her every waking hour centered around her duties as Herald. Not that this was bad. He liked seeing her take charge and take her given role seriously. She had even fought with Sera.

“You went all uptight, Heraldy, all of sudden.” Sera had said to her.

“Well, I am the Herald. I have my duty.” This earned Scarlett a “pfft” and a cold shoulder.

She didn’t seem to care. This worried Cullen more than anything. In the short time, he’d known her, he’d never seen her blow off her friends. The only time she went to the tavern was to eat, even then only staying long enough to do so. She would speak with her companions, but only if they spoke to her first. Cullen wanted to tell them what had happened, why she was acting this way but felt it wasn’t his place. No one needed to know she’d gone on a suicide mission. No one needed to know that she’d had a mental breakdown. 

It wasn’t until the morning she was set to close the Breach that he finally saw her return to a bit of herself. He had slept in his own tent that night, her being tied up in last minute preparations all over Haven. When he emerged from his tent, he was greeted with a sight he hadn’t seen in days, possibly even weeks. 

A group of soldiers had done some hunting, only to be attacked by Templars. Many were badly wounded and had been taken to their tents to be tended by the Healer. No one had called on Scarlett since she was busy with the day's events. She must have received word at some point because she stood over one of them now. A blue-green light emanated from her palms as they hovered over the soldier’s wounds. He was caught up in watching her work, the slow movement of her hands, the look of concentration on her face. He could hear her singing. A habit she had when healing. Her voice was so bright, so serene. It settled his nerves. He had thought that this was what she intended, but when he’d asked her about it before, she didn’t seem to realize she did it. 

This time, her singing was drawing a small crowd. Not that they hovered near her, but he could see heads poking out of tents, passersby inching closer to his than normal. In every face, he could see her calm settle over them. He couldn’t help but think, this was exactly what the people of Haven needed right now. If only there were some way to amplify her voice so all of its inhabitants could hear her.

She finished with the soldier and stood to face him. She had a small smile that was just for him. He couldn’t help but return it. She crossed the distance to his tent.

“Good morning, Herald.” He used her title since there were now a few soldiers present.

“Good morning, Commander.” There was a playful glint in her eye and it made Cullen’s heart skip. He didn’t know it, but he had begun to fear he would never see her like this again. He had thought what had occurred at the Temple had somehow scarred her to the point that she couldn’t go back to her easy charm, her cheerful, spirited self. 

She lifted herself to her toes, placing a hand on his vambrace, and pressing her lips to his cheek. “I missed you last night,” she whispered, low enough to not be overheard. 

“And I, you.” He couldn’t help but smile. With all that would happen today, he didn’t think she would want to return to her cabin and find him asleep, unable to wait for her. He had been exhausted, not able to sleep for fear she would do something reckless for two days.

“Today is the day. Are you ready?” He could sense the apprehension in her voice. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He took her hands in his, so much he wanted to say to her, but he knew this wasn’t the time or place. He didn’t want what he had to say to be overheard by so many ears. He wished their private life could remain thus. 

She turned, ready to head to the Chantry, and he followed, close to her side. They walked in silence. He wanted to reach for her hand, but they had decided to show a professional front while in public. They weren’t always successful, hence her kiss moments ago. He knew she was needing the touch as much as he was, so he settled for grazing his hand along hers every few steps. 

They entered the Chantry, Leliana, and Cassandra already present. 

“Herald, we have prepared as best we can. The Mages will follow you to the Breach and set up a perimeter around you. We have acquired a few more Templar recruits, enough to have one stationed at each position along the Temple walls. Precautions have been taken, and instructions were given to each one. They know what to watch for and are prepared to take action should any of the Mages not be able to handle being so near the Breach.” Leliana began.

“Good. That’s good.” Cullen could hear the apprehension in her voice and took her hand then, giving it a firm squeeze. Her eyes met his and he hoped his expression told her that everything would be okay. 

When they turned back to the other women in the room, they both wore twin smiles. He released Scarlett’s hand and felt his face burn. He shouldn’t be embarrassed but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if he intended to fall for this woman. It just happened. 

“Am I late?” Josephine’s harried voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“No, Ambassador. We are all early.” Leliana stated, smiling and shaking her head.

She was followed by Solas. The elf always seemed to have a grim expression, but today it seemed to settle over his entire being. He knew that everyone was relying on his knowledge of the Fade. He showed no apprehension in assisting them, but he wasn’t always straight-forward. The Fade was something none of them truly understood, and Scarlett, try as she might, was never able to wrangle as much information from him as she truly wanted. They had discussed this nearly every time she left the elf’s company. 

“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we,” Scarlett stated on a shaky breath. 

\----------

The Breach was sealed. They had done it. She had done it. He had wanted to approach the Breach alongside her but knew he was needed on the walls. They had prepared for every possible outcome and he watched for demons, abominations, possessions. He was to stand guard on the wall and give a call to action if need be, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from Scarlett. 

She had stood resolute. He knew that she had made her peace with what may happen, but watching her without the fear and confusion clouding her face, he could say he was proud. Proud of her. Proud to be hers. The magic of the Breach whipped out across all on the ground, throwing them back, but Scarlett pushed through the blast, not willing to be thrown by it. As the green light diffused he saw her on one knee, as if in prayer. And who knew, she might even be doing so. She was ready to make her sacrifice, but that never meant that she wanted to die.

We approached Haven and all of the people within the gates had begun celebrating. Cullen took note that even Adan, the sour and dour Healer was imbibing in drink near Varric’s fire. Laughter and infectious singing spread through the crowd. He turned to face Scarlett and was happy to find a smile gracing her lips. Many of the townsfolk made their way to her, bowing and/or shaking her hand, blessings falling from their lips. 

Finally, she begged her leave, stating that she would like to be alone for a moment but not before signaling him to follow her to her cabin. 

Once inside, she sat on the bed bringing her hands to her face and her elbows to her knees. He wasn’t sure what emotions were running through her at the moment, but he could only feel sheer relief that she was alive. 

“I wanted to thank you for stopping me before. I panicked and I’m sorry. I will do my best to not make such rash decisions in the future.” Her eyes met his and he could read the uncertainty within. 

“Scarlett, we both know that isn’t true.” He smiled, letting her know he was joking but she didn’t return it. “In the months I have known you, you’ve never failed to be compulsive or follow your whims. It’s something about your personality that thrills and terrifies me every day.” 

She frowned then, knowing it was true but not wanting to accept it. “The pull of the mark is quieter now. Sealing the Breach has stopped the constant tug I have felt since the day I awoke with it.” 

“That’s a good thing. Now you may not feel the after effects so sharply.” He took a seat beside her on the bed, bringing a gloved hand to her cheek and pressing his lips to hers. She returned the kiss with a soft moan and he felt her relax under his ministrations. 

Her eyes were hooded with desire when they pulled apart and Cullen was happy to know it was his doing and not the pull of the mark. “I should probably be out there among them, celebrating with them. But honestly, I just want to be right here with you. Is that too much to ask?” 

“Tonight, I think the people need to see you among them. I will be here when it is over but they need to see you standing beside them. They need to know you are one of them.”

She leaned into him, not ready to be everything the people needed her to be. He took her in arms and held her for a moment before bringing her to her feet and pulling her out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are coming a little slower, due to holidays, but I am using this work as my NANOWRIMO project. So, at least 50,000 words to come this month :)


	20. In Your Heart Shall Burn, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a bit of regurgitation of cannon, with a few alterations, but I feel it is a turning point for Cullen in many ways.

The air outside the cabin is cold, tinged with excitement and the swell of body-heat. Cullen’s hand in mine kept me grounded as bodies pushed past us, but too quickly he was pulled away to his duties. I was left to my own devices and found that everyone had something they wished to say to me. It wasn’t long before my jaw and cheeks ached from smiling, my shoulder sore from shaking so many hands.

I found a perch, away from the crowd, but still close enough I could see the festivities going on below me. Music poured from the tavern. People danced and sang along. Many were already drunk and cat-calling passersby. One of the Templar recruits even made a pass at a Mage. This earned him nothing but a scowl. However, I caught the barest hint of a smile when she turned from him. Ryder and Dorian seemed to be in deep conversation off in their own little corner, both with tankards in hand. 

Footsteps approach from behind me. The shifting of metal on metal tells me it is likely Cassandra. She is the only one of my companions I have yet to set eyes on. “Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed. We’ve reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain, but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread.”

I turn to her then; she has an odd look of contentment mixed with apprehension. I understand. We have succeeded in what we set out to do but, who killed the Divine? Who was this Elder One? What happened to the Templars? “You know how many were involved. Luck put me at the center.” Not that I considered any of this to be lucky, quite the opposite actually. Cassandra seemed to understand my meaning. She nodded to me and her next words were playful, if only just.

“A strange kind of luck. I’m not sure if we need more or less. But you’re right. This was a victory of alliance, one of the few in recent memory. With the Breach closed that alliance will need new focus.” We turn to each other, small smiles on both of our lips. We could be content with this victory for now. As Varric said before, we can take a moment to enjoy our victory. It’s not as if the world is ending. The Breach has been closed.

I take a calming breath, letting the chilly air pull through my lungs but my quiet is broken by the sound of alarms clanging all around Haven. Cassandra and I exchange worried looks before Cullen’s voice can be heard above cries of alarm. “Forces approaching! To arms!” 

The crowd panics, many seeking shelter but most gather up arms and armor. Confusion and heady excitement pour from all in the village. It seems the victory over the Breach has instilled a sense of camaraderie, a purpose within every member of the Inquisition. 

“What the… We must get to the gates,” Cassandra shouts over the rising excitement around us.

“So celebratory drinks are on hold,” Bull states as he rushes to my side. 

We pick up pace to the Commander. Him, Josie and Leliana wait just inside the gates. All eyes are on me as we approach.

Cassandra speaks first. “Cullen?”

“One watch guard reporting. There is a massive force, the bulk of it over the mountain.” His eyes stay on me, worried, confused.

Josie pipes in, “Under what banner?” 

“None,” Cullen states flatly.

I can feel all eyes turn to me. These people are looking to me to save them… again. What am I supposed to do against an army? I feel like turning and yelling at all of them, “Hello, not a Battle-Mage. Healer, remember?” But instead I say nothing, keeping my focus on the gates, waiting for word of something, anything that may give us an idea of what we are up against.

Just then, the gates rattle and a red light flashes from the other side. A young man’s voice is heard from just the other side of the massive oak doors. “I can’t come in unless you open.” 

Was he talking to the doors? It didn’t matter. I push the gate open. I will not allow a child to be caught between the gates and the force that is approaching. 

I am not prepared for the sight in front of me. A massive Venatori, armed to the teeth, stalks to the gate. His steps echoing as they strike the ground. I hear Cullen draw his sword, but before either of us can attack, he falls to the ground and the young man we heard before steps out from behind him. I hadn’t even seen him, or the blade that now protruded from the fallen body at our feet.

“I’m Cole. I came to warn you, to help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know…” 

“What is this? What’s going on?” I cut off his words, needing answers.

“The Templars come to kill you.” His tone is so matter of fact it sends a chill up my spine. 

My thoughts race, bouncing inside of me like a child’s toy, never landing on anything solid. Templars, the Red Templars from Therinfall? 

“Yes,” The young man states, as if in answer to my inner thoughts.

Cullen begins shouting. I can’t hear him over the blood pumping in my ears. Cole and Cullen are both talking, looking at me as if I should have a plan to fight. I do not know what to do. This is Cullen’s area of expertise. They point to the hill above us. At first all I see is a thick cloud of pulsating darkness, and then a disfigured, enormous figure steps to the forefront. “The Elder One,” I hear Cole say. 

“Cullen, give me a plan, anything!” I hear myself shout. I didn’t even know I had opened my mouth, panic overriding all sense of self. If I was willing to close the Breach myself, I have to be ready to stand and defend my people. Because that is what they are now, my people, my followers. I had led them this far, now I will stand and defend them.

“Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can.”

He shouts something to the Mages who have come out to help, but I don’t hear it. I turn to my companions, nodding, letting them know it is now or never, all or nothing. The act mimics the one shared between my companions at Redcliffe and I try not to think about that as I turn to face the fury of the Templars.

 

A dragon. What in the Holy Hells? I don’t have time to process this right now. All I can do is get my people back to safety. Luckily, whatever power that dragon possessed, it didn’t seem to breathe flame. The knock back it had unleashed sent all of the members of my party flying but none of us were burned or hindered in fighting our way through the Red Templars.

We entered the gate, Cullen waving people inside and slamming it closed behind us. He told us to get to the Chantry, but I couldn’t leave the people of Haven to defend themselves. Cassandra and Bull carved a path through the enemy, allowing Varric and I to check the nearby buildings. We weaved our way through the small village, entering when we heard shouting and lifting people to their feet when they couldn’t do it themselves. 

At last, we reached the Chantry. We got into a minor scuffle before entering the stone building, saving one more of Haven’s residents. Varric clapped me on the shoulder as we entered the building. His look telling me he was grateful that I took the time to save who I could.

Cole had Chancellor Roderick over his shoulder. He stated plainly that he would die and the Chancellor gave him a look that said he wasn’t pleased with his assessment of the situation. 

“Scarlett, that dragon has taken any chance we had. The people cannot survive another attack from that beast.” He takes my hands in his, all formality dropped in the face of certain death. He leans down, placing his apology on my cheek. When he pulls away I can see the tears brimming in his eyes.   
Cole breaks into our moment, “The Elder One doesn’t care about the village. He only wants the Herald.”

I gather my resolve. If I can save these people, I will. “If it will save my people, he can have me.”

Cullen’s grip on my hand tightens. I turn to him then and a tear slides down his scruffy cheek. It melts my heart, but I cannot give in to sentiment now. I have to be strong. 

“There are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could cause one last slide.” 

“Now, who’s the one making a suicide run?” I try to keep my tone light, but we both know this could be the end of all of our efforts. 

Cole states that Chancellor Roderick has an idea. He tells us of a path that could lead the people out of Haven and into the Frostbacks. 

“What about it, Cullen? Will it work?” 

His eyes darken, and I can no longer tell what he is thinking. “Possibly, if the Chancellor shows us the path.” He turns a glare on the man who, up until this point, has done nothing but attempt to thwart the Inquisition’s efforts. Then he turns back to me, his face now crestfallen, broken. “But what of your escape?”

I bring my hand to his cheek. He knows I am saying goodbye. We can’t afford much more. If this is to work both of us must hurry.

“Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way.” He turns then and orders his men to follow the Chancellor. Everyone rushes to the outer doors keen on any plan that would get them away from the dragon, and this Elder One.

Cullen turns to me one last time. His steel mask in place as he says, “If we are to have a chance, if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you.”


	21. In Your Heart Shall Burn, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Your Heart Shall Burn events from Cullen's perspective. Minor alterations to cannon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration for this scene. The video is very Mass Effect-y.   
> https://youtu.be/d1yTyAh8IA8

It took everything Cullen had in him, not to turn and chase after Scarlett, ensuring her safety above all others. But right now, he had to be the military Commander. He had to see that the rest of Haven was to escape this newest threat. She was going to ensure they had the time they needed to be free from this place. 

His only comfort was that Cassandra was with her. She would ensure nothing befell Scarlett. He had to have faith in that. 

“Move, we must make it to the mountains before that thing attacks the Chantry directly. If we are down here and it falls, we will be crushed.” He knew fear could motivate where any other action would not.

Ryder, Sera and Dorian were doing their best to guide traffic and keep people calm, Ryder and Dorian both casting lights when the torches failed in the cold blast of the Forstbacks’ winds. The villagers too frightened by the appearance of a monster and the loss of their homes, to care that they were using magic. 

They made it to the end of a long tunnel that ran the length of Haven, opening into a small cave. The villagers debated staying here, away from the wind and the chaos going on above them, but Cullen knew he had to signal Scarlett that they had made it to safety. He pushed them, telling them they would need to be clear of the debris the avalanche would surely send cascading down the mountain. If they stayed, they may be just as buried as the village itself. 

Finally, they made it to a split in the mountain. A valley lay not far in front of them. Cullen gave instruction to set up camp there and turned back to Haven. 

Cullen could feel his heart in his throat. The Elder One held Scarlett in one hand, above his head. Even from this distance he could tell she was fighting him. And, Maker, she was alone. Cassandra, Bull and Varric were nowhere to be seen.

“Ryder,” he called, hearing his own voice crack.

The Mage appeared at his side, following his eyes to the scene that held Cullen captive. He heard a strangled noise pull from the man’s throat. “Scar,” he whispered. 

Cullen turned to Ryder. “Send the signal. She needs to know we are safe and to get the fuck out of there.” He gripped the front of Ryder’s leathers when he stood frozen, watching what was happening. “Get her out of there,” he growled. 

Ryder finally looked at Cullen and he could see tears in the Mage’s eyes, but he cast a fireball high into the air. At the same moment, they both saw Scarlett tossed into the trebuchet. She landed hard on her side. She was slow to get up, coming to her feet with… Maker… That sword was bigger than she was. She brandished it toward the beast. Neither opponent seemed too keen to fight the other. They were actually talking. Did Scarlett not want to let on that she was a Mage? Was she holding back thinking to use her magic as a last resort? Or was she hurt and couldn’t summon enough manna to do any damage to the creature? He remembered what she said about her body’s ability to heal, that it would drain her magic until she recovered. 

Cullen soon realized he and Ryder weren’t the only ones watching what was happening on the mountain. Many of the villagers stood at their side. Some held their hands over their mouths. Some twisted their fingers together; waiting for what would come next. Some went down on one knee, begging the Maker to bring her out of the fight. 

As he was taking in the villagers around him, he heard a cry that brought his eyes back to the fray. Scarlett was running, the planned landslide cascading down the mountain behind her, drawing the attention of the Elder One and his dragon. By the time the Elder One turned back to her, he seemed to realize he could chase her and possibly fall to the landslide, or escape and hope Scarlett herself was crushed under the ice and snow. 

The Elder One’s dragon lifted him from the ground, carrying him to safety, but Scarlett was not yet in the clear. She turned back to the mountain and then peered over the side. Cullen couldn’t believe his eyes. She jumped. She jumped off the side of the mountain. His heart froze and he watched her fall. Her arms flailed for a moment before she straightened her body. He didn’t know what she had seen or what she thought she was doing but as her body was about to make impact with the snow, he saw her curl in on herself protectively. Then, she was gone. They waited a while, hoping she would emerge from the snow, but she never did.

Cullen turned to the villagers and he saw his heartbreak mirrored in their faces. 

 

Cassandra, Varric and Bull showed up not long after they all witnessed Scarlett’s fall. They had witnessed it as well, but said she disappeared, never having made impact within the snow. Bull explained that when she should have hit, no sound was heard and no drifts lifted around her. 

“So she could still be alive?” Cullen asked hopefully.

“Well, I didn’t say that. I’m just telling you that she didn’t hit the snow. She may have fallen into one of the mining shafts. That could be worse. At least the snow would have been soft, or softer, anyway.” He leaves the party to check on his men. It seems that most of the Chargers escaped Haven and Bull was more concerned about them than anything else.

“We need to decide what we will do without her; we cannot close the rifts…” 

Cullen’s glare cut off Cassandra’s words. He was not going to discuss the Inquisition without its Herald. He was not prepared for that.  
She reached a placating hand toward him, but he pulled away. He didn’t want to be comforted. He wanted action. She couldn’t be dead. No, she was out there somewhere and they would either have to wait for her to find them or go find her themselves. 

“Cold, so cold. Pain pierces, shoots, spreads. New powers, no help here. My heart will always seek his. He is out there. I will find him. So cold. No manna. No Magic.” Cole begins rambling, but something in what he says catches Cullen’s attention. Her letter to him the night she went to the Temple. “My heart will always seek yours.” That was what she had written.

“Cole, what did you just say?” He knew his voice held an air of hope that seemed far out of reach to the others standing around the fire.

“She’s alive. She’s looking for you.” Cole turned his eyes to Cullen as he said the last. 

 

Cullen waited for the rest of the camp to turn in for the night. They had all decided it best to wait for morning to seek out the Herald. No one was going to make any progress in the aftermath of the landslide. It was as if a blizzard had begun, but no storm was in the sky. What they didn’t know was that Cullen was going to look for her himself. He caved only so everyone else would leave him alone. No one knew how to comfort him and Ryder was beginning to blame him for his friend’s demise. They hadn’t told anyone of Cole’s words, not knowing if they could trust him, but he had told no one of that letter, he knew those were her words. 

He snuck out around the perimeter of the camp, ensuring he didn’t get too close to Cassandra, Josephine or Leliana’s tents. He was certain he would be successful in exiting the camp unnoticed when two figures emerged from the darkness. 

“And where do you think you are going, Commander?” Ryder purred from the shadows. Sera stood by his side, arms crossed over her chest.

“I… uh… I was going to do a sweep of the area. Ensure we won’t be having any surprises tonight.” He wasn’t good at lying and Ryder saw right through it.

The Mage stepped into Cullen’s face. “You cannot leave. These people are depending on you. I will go look for her. There is no need for you to go. There’s nothing you can do for her.”

“You can come with me or you can get out of my way, but I am not going to abandon her out there.” He wasn’t angry. He knew Ryder was right, but he also knew that if anything happened to him, Cassandra was more than capable of filling the role of Commander. He wasn’t abandoning them, as much as relinquishing control. He knew it was wrong, but he also knew these people, their Inquisition would be floundering if they didn’t find her. He was doing this as much for them as himself.   
Ryder crossed his arms and stood his ground, but Cullen pushed past him, not wanting to argue or lose any more time. 

“Too bad you don’t have a phylactery. This would be so much easier.” Ryder was trying to goad Cullen, and he knew it.

“True,” was all he allowed himself to say before pressing on.

 

Cullen had no idea how long they had been searching, but the cold was starting to get to him. Even with all the time he’d spent in Haven, he was used to much warmer climates. He thought about asking Ryder to cast a warming spell, but he didn’t want to ask him for anything. This entire time, he’d done nothing but try and rile Cullen up, get him to act in anger, or blame him for Scarlett being out here to begin with.

“I can’t believe you sent her out alone.” 

“I didn’t send her out alone. She was with the Seeker.” Cullen tried to keep the thoughts from his mind. The one’s that mirrored Ryder’s words. I should have gone with her. I should have made her run with us. 

This wasn’t all. He constantly reminded Cullen of what he once was. He made sure Cullen knew he didn’t trust him. 

They had been walking for hours when Cullen spotted a figure crouched in the snow. She was rocking back and forth, shivering and mumbling. 

“Maker’s Breath. It’s her.” 

Ryder and Cullen reached her in the same moment, both reaching out to take her in their arms. Cullen’s hands went to her face, and Ryder pulled off her gloves. Cullen was about to protest until he saw Ryder’s intent. A red pulse of warming energy was pushed through Scarlett’s body. The warmth seemed to bring her to awareness.

“Cullen, I knew I would find you,” she whispered weakly. Her eyes shifted to Ryder’s. “Ryder.” She whispered his name, bringing a smile to both of their faces. Before anyone could say anything else, Scarlett’s eyes rolled back and she fell into the snow. 

“Shit,” Ryder cursed as he attempted to gather her into his arms. 

“Let me,” Cullen slid his arms under her legs and shoulders. Ryder shifted Scarlett’s weight closer to him.

“She is my friend. I don’t trust you. I thought you cared for her, but you don’t send someone you care about into certain death.” 

Cullen knew Ryder’s anger was misplaced, that he was scared, but he also knew there would be nothing he could say to convince him that he was just as upset about sending Scarlett to face the monsters as Ryder was. He decided to be honest with the man standing before him. It should be Scarlett he was saying this to, but he needed Ryder to hand her over. He needed to hold her, to know she would be okay. “I love her, Ryder. I’ve been in love with her for some time. I haven’t said the words out loud to her, but I think she knows. I hope she knows. I want the chance to say it to her. I need her.”

Ryder’s anger cooled to frustration, but he still wasn’t ready to relinquish his hold on her. “Then why did you send her out to meet the Elder One?” 

Cullen could see fresh tears blooming in Ryder’s eyes. He had read him correctly before. He was scared. “Because, I had to. Scarlett and I have discussed this many times. I have to let her be the Herald. I have to let her fight the things we cannot. She has powers none of us, except maybe Solas, understand. She’s a Spirit Healer, yet she can command the elements with a focus I’ve never seen before. She claims she’s not a fighter, but you’ve seen her on the battlefield. She has yet to face a foe she hasn’t easily dismantled. I have seen powerful Mages before, but she is different, she is more.”

Ryder looked at the girl in his arms. Even to Cullen she looked like a young girl in blissful, peaceful sleep. “She’s just a girl from Ostwick. She’s barely twenty-two years old.”

Cullen had never thought to ask her how old she was. She was always so confident, so self-assured. It made her seem older, wiser. “She’s more than that. You know it as much as I do. What twenty-two year old girl could do half of what she’s done?” Cullen couldn’t help but think of Katarina. She had been the same age when she’d left the Circle. Only two years his senior. It wasn’t age that caused him to admire Katarina. It was her confidence, her noble acts, her kindness, her generosity. Scarlett had many of the same qualities. He held no illusions to gaining what he’d lost so long ago, but he was realizing he had a type. It made him smile. His smile bringing out one in Ryder. 

Finally, Ryder relinquished his hold on his friend, shifting her into Cullen’s waiting arms.


	22. The Dawn Will Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett awakes after her brush with death with Ryder at her side.

Fear lifts my body from its resting place, my torso jolting in pain. A hand covers my bare forearm and I scramble away from the touch, falling to the ground. This sends another stab of pain up my side. 

“Scar, sweetheart, it’s me.” Ryder comes around to the side of the cot I have fallen from. He crouches in front of me, holding out his hands to help me to my feet. 

It takes me a moment to accept his hands, still not sure why my heart is pounding in panic. “What happened? Where am I?” Looking around the unfamiliar tent, I see other bodies on cots and bedrolls. Some look soundly asleep, others are writhing in pain and a few hold no movement at all. Memories come flooding back, the Magister, the dragon, falling from the mountain, the cave. But I don’t remember reaching the camp. I remember seeing the flair signaling where they would be, but after falling through the mine shaft, I had lost my bearings. I did the only thing I could and followed the tree line along the mountain’s base.

“We aren’t sure where we are, but you were hurt. We found you about halfway between here and Haven. How are you feeling?” Ryder brings me to my feet and guides me back down onto the cot. 

“Tired,” I answer honestly. I lay my head back on the pillow and bring my arm over my eyes. 

“I take it three days of sleep wasn’t enough?” He laughs but his revelation causes me to sit up again. My side protests, but the pain isn’t horrible, just irritating.

“What? Three days?” I ask around clenched teeth. I look down, only now noticing that I am wearing mostly bandages. My breast band and smalls keep me from being exposed but there is little else in the way of clothing. 

“You were injured pretty badly. Most didn’t think you’d recover. When you failed to wake the first day, I tried explaining your powers to them, but most didn’t want to listen. Solas took a shot at it as well, but had an even harsher reception than I. I guess people want to trust me because they know how close we are. It’s a little weird.” He smiles again, and I can see he is trying to get me to do the same. 

“But for real, how are you feeling? You may have cracked a rib or two. You had scratches and bruises all over your body. Most of those seem to be gone, but you’ve got another wicked scar to add to your collection.” He points to my back.

I remember colliding with the trebuchet. One of the metal pieces had dug painfully into my shoulder, but seemed to miss anything vital because I was able to wield the fallen sword. “My side hurts, but the rest seems fine. Ask me again when I start moving around.” Ryder opens his mouth to say something else but is interrupted by a massive growl emitting from the pit of my stomach. We both laugh.

“I’ll go track down some food for you.” 

 

After a few minutes, the tent flap opens and my tummy makes a welcoming noise anticipating the delivery of sustenance. I sit up, rubbing my palms together in my excitement. Ryder smiles as he places a bowl of stew in my hands. The warmth spreads through my palms and the steam caresses my face. I breathe in deeply the scent of herbs and vegetables mixed with the fatty tender pieces of meat. Again, my stomach growls. “Alright, alright. I hear you.” I lift the warm liquid to my lips, forgoing utensils in favor of a quick delivery. The warmth seeps through me and I catch the bitter taste of elfroot mixed within the broth. I raise a questioning eyebrow to Ryder.

“I knew you’d taste it. Most of us have had minor injuries. I knew it was something you would suggest.” 

It surprised me that he would know that. It is rare that anyone thinks like a healer, unless they have an affinity for it. I suppose with me being out for a few days, someone would have to asses the injuries en mass. It worried me that he was trying to think one. Where was Adan? I know I pulled him from the flames before entering the Chantry. He had been right outside his cabin.

Ryder must have read my expression because he said, “Don’t worry. Adan is fine. I just wanted to prove I could be of use. Everyone has been running around accomplishing a whole lot of nothing. To give them something they could actually use put me in a good position.”

I couldn’t believe it had taken wondering about Adan to realize there might be others who didn’t make it. “Did… Did we lose anyone?”

“Cullen is fine. Grumpy, but fine.” Ryder crosses his arms over his chest and his lip protrudes in a small pout.

A weight I didn’t know was on my heart lifted. “Where is he?”

“Oh, he was to be informed the moment you woke. I guess whoever was in charge of that failed to do so.” His devilish grin gives him away. He winks at me and I can’t help but shake my head in disbelief.

“Ryder! That is so mean. Why would you do that?” I move to set my bowl aside, but Ryder’s hand pushes it back to my mouth, telling me to eat. 

His eyes come to mine before they make a slow examination of my body. “Because I am petty and he wouldn’t let me carry you back.” His matter-of-fact tone has me questioning his motives. 

Uncomfortable under his scrutiny I can’t help but wonder if Cullen’s concern over him is completely unfounded. “Ryder…” I begin, but sigh as the next words leave my mouth. “I have to ask. I know you love me, but are you in love with me? I think Cullen is convinced you are.”

“Scar, it’s not like that.” He must have realized he was making me uncomfortable so he brings his eyes back to mine. 

“I adore you. We’ve just lost so much; you’ve been through so much.” He takes my bowl from me, so he can hold my hand, placing it on the cold ground by his feet. 

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you and I don’t entirely trust the Commander. He was a Templar. His first response to helping you was to strip you of what you are. From what I’ve heard from Dorian, Sera and Cassandra, he’s held a torch for you from the moment he saw you. I don’t like that. Him lusting after you like some prize.” Ryder scowls, and I can tell he is considering his next words carefully. 

“We talked. When we found you after, in the snow, he told me he cared about you. That doesn’t mean I automatically approve of him.”

I place a small smile of reassurance on my lips. I had a feeling his actions were more in line with protecting me than a desire to be with me. I knew he had fallen in love with a handsome gentleman from our Circle years ago. I had let Cullen’s worries seep into what I knew to be true. “I know, but we never had it bad in our Circle. Most of the Templars we met were kind, decent people.” He opens his mouth to argue but I keep going. “Cullen is trying to break away from his past. He is trying to be the man he set out to be when he joined the Order. We’ve talked about Kirkwall. If you don’t trust him, how about trusting my judgment?” 

He leans in close to me. He raises an eyebrow and his lip quirks in a half grin. “You sure you aren’t after that pretty face, that smoking hot body?” He makes a low growl in his throat. 

I can’t help but giggle, and hearing me laugh compels him to continue.

“It’s not about that scar that you can’t help but want to slide your tongue over? Or about his position within the Inquisition, his power? I mean he’s completely fuckable. I’d let him pin me against a wall.”

“Makers Breath,” a husky voice whispers from just inside the tent, “Can you stop? Please.” 

I laugh heartily when I see Cullen’s bright red cheeks and ears. Ryder turns to him, a look of complete satisfaction on his face. I don’t know if he knew Cullen was standing there or if the look was because he knew Cullen hadn’t believed me when I told him Ryder was gay. Either way that matter should now be put to rest. 

“I will leave you lovebirds to talk.” Ryder vacates the seat next to my bed, gesturing for Cullen to take his place. He winks at the Commander before exiting the tent and Cullen scowls after him.

“Now will you stop being so hostile toward him,” I ask and laugh again when he turns his scowl on me.

“No. He was supposed to inform me when you woke up and he didn’t.” He takes the seat Ryder offered him and notices my discarded, but nearly full bowl of stew next to it. He picks it up, handing it back to me. “You should eat.”

The stew has cooled significantly but I warm it with a spell and bring the bowl to my lips again. Cullen watches me, I’m sure I look unrefined slurping the soup the way I am but I don’t care. I don’t remember where I put the spoon Ryder had brought with him.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Better, now that there is food in my belly. My wounds seem to have healed while I slept.” I make a show of stretching my body and twisting so he can see I am telling the truth. My side sends a twinge of pain through me as I pull too far to my left. 

“Adan said you may have broken a rib or two. Best not to push yourself. Everything else seems to have healed well.” He reaches to remove the bandages that encompass my torso, unraveling me like wrapped present. 

I look down, taking in my first glimpse of the damage done to my body. It’s not as bad as I would have expected after falling from the mountainside. My side is bruised, but the yellowish-tinge tells me it is nearly healed. I have a few new scars, but none that won’t fade with time. I forget that Ryder mentioned a new scar on my back until Cullen runs his gloved finger over the place where I hit the trebuchet. 

“Scarlett, I am so sorry.” His voice cracks and I look into his eyes. I notice they are bloodshot. I should have seen it before but I was distracted Ryder’s flirtations and then his hands on my body. 

“Cullen, there is nothing to be sorry about. We both had duties to perform and according to Ryder, you were just as successful in yours as I was in mine.” Of course, I don’t know that for sure. The only thing he’d really told me was that Cullen survived. I only assumed that if we’d lost a significant amount of people, or anyone I held in my inner circle, he would have told me.

“This is never going to be easy, is it,” he asks on a heavy sigh.

“No, but as long as we have each other, it will be bearable.”

He smiles then and it is bright and genuine. It’s the first time I’ve seen his smile widen his lips, even giving a hint of teeth. I’ve seen him laugh, but this was different. He actually seemed happy. I can’t help but think back to the first tentative smile he’d cast my way. It was just barely enough to lift one of his cheeks and make his amber eyes brighten. It makes me smile as well. 

 

Cullen had left me to rest and I decided to put my clothes on. With most of my wounds healed, and my bandages removed, it didn’t seem necessary to lie about in my smalls any longer. I ate a bit more when Mother Giselle brought some spiced wine and bread into the tent. We sat and talked about all of the events that befell Haven and about the Magister who attacked us. I asked about his whereabouts and his motivations but she seemed to have no answers for me. She told me that nearly everyone in camp had a horrible view of what occurred on the mountain. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore and was saved by raised voices coming from outside the tent. 

Cullen, Cassandra, Josie and Leliana stood over a makeshift War Table arguing. From this distance it was hard to make out everything they were shouting at each other. 

“They have been doing this for days.” Mother Giselle stated from just behind me. 

“All arguing gets us is a headache… Another headache.” I bring my fingers up to the bridge of my nose, massaging away the tension of the moment. 

She places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Infighting may threaten as much as this, Corypheus. Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed. The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear, and the more our trials seem ordained. The people know what they saw. What do you believe?” 

“You are asking if I believe I am the Herald they wish me to be.” Again my fingers reach for the bridge of my nose. When I turn back to her, she simply nods. “I believe in my heart I was meant for this. I knew it at Haven and I know it now, but we need more than faith to survive this.”

To my surprise she smiles and turns to the rest of the camp. Her voice rises in song. All eyes turn to her as she makes her way to the center of camp. I can’t fathom what she hopes to accomplish by singing but it isn’t long before others join her. Leliana is first. I can see why she was once a popular bard. Her voice is beautiful. Nightingale, her nickname, takes on a new meaning in my mind. When Cullen begins singing, I am drawn to the beauty of his voice as well. I had never thought something so pure and heartfelt would pass his lips. I want to listen to him and him alone. I doubt I would ever be able to get him to sing just for me, but I am tempted to ask, none the less. 

With my focus on Cullen, I don’t realize that many have begun to gather, not around Mother Giselle, but around me. Falling to one knee, hands over their hearts. Many of their heads are bowed and I feel my throat constrict. I want to shout at them to get up. I am not the Maker, or Andraste. I don’t want their worship. But I realize this isn’t about me. These people need hope. I am the person they are looking to for that hope.


	23. Journey to Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had the day off, so here's another little blurb for you... a little bonus.

Solas said he knew of a place where the Inquisition could build, grow. He mentioned that is was a fortress, lost and forgotten. He had seen it in his journeys through the Fade. On his word alone, we pushed forward, breaking down the camp that had been out home for over a week. Leliana sent scouts ahead and Cullen sent hunting parties to collect food to sustain us on our journey. 

I led my people through the Frostbacks and deeper into wild territory. The mountains protected us from the winds, and the sun shone on us through the trek. We stopped and made camp before nightfall each night and were packed and ready before daybreak each morning. 

A few days into the journey, some of the weaker members of our party began to fall ill, needing rest and food. I decided it best that we make camp and stay for a day or two. There was no sense in saving these people just to have them fall to the cold. I had Cullen round up a hunting team and sent them for a few Druffalo. The beasts were hard to take down, but the meat would be feed many and their skins could be used for extra warmth for those who needed it. The bones could also be made into arrowheads, something we were running short on. After the attack, many weapons were left where they lay and we had run into a few packs of snow-wolves. Our archers had made quick work of them, but that left little more than one hundred arrows for the entire camp.

I had a group of Leliana’s scouts hunt down some more elfroot, knowing the sick would need it and hoping to recreate what Ryder had done with the stew that first day. When I went to speak with the one’s who would be preparing the meal, they seemed to understand what I wanted, having done it once before. 

I find it odd to have so many people do what I ask without hesitation. It is a bit overwhelming. I know they see me as the Herald but that is just a symbol of hope, nothing more. I do not have Cullen’s military prowess, Leliana’s keen intellect, or Cassandra’s commanding presence. And Maker knows, I have none of Josie’s diplomatic authority. 

When the scouts and hunters return, I give instructions on what I’d like them to do with each item harvested. Quickly, they get to work, skinning the animals and taking the meat to be prepared. I make my way over to the cooks to ensure they know how to strip the oils from the elfroot and am pleased to find them pressing and grinding the leaves with precision. I can only think Adan must have shown them this technique when Ryder had suggested it before. 

When all work is done and I have a moment to breathe, I find my way to an outcropping on the mountain’s ledge. I sit, bringing my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. The air here is cooler, having little protection from the gusts sweeping down the mountain, but it is beautiful. Everything is coated in white with little dots of green under outcroppings, like the one I’m sitting on, or with the tall evergreens that have somehow found root in the rocky soil. This land is so foreign from my costal home, but I find I like it. I like the constant cold. I like the people surrounding me. I like the quiet. I close my eyes and inhale the crisp, chilled air. All of my thoughts pushed aside as I bask in the sun’s glow. 

In the Circle there were places I could go -- a balcony on an abandoned tower, a forgotten alcove within the gardens -- and clear my mind. I hadn’t really had that in Haven. Sure, I could hide, but it wasn’t the same. Those places weren’t mine. I realize I never really considered Haven my home. Before Redcilffe, I had thought it a temporary stop, a bump in the road. Yes, I had grown close to the people there, but it always felt like something was missing. I had no claim to the cabin they placed me in. I had no claim to anything. The only times I felt at home was when I was with the people I cared about. Now they were all with me, following me to what we all hoped would become home.

Footsteps crunch on the snow behind me and I turn to find Cullen approaching. “Adan is seeing to the one’s who have fallen ill and dinner is almost ready.” 

I pat the snow beside me, asking Cullen to join me on the ledge but he shakes his head, offering me his hand instead. “I would prefer if you didn’t sit so close to that ledge. It makes me nervous, seeing as how only a few days ago I watched you jump from one.”

I hadn’t thought of that and I nod, taking his hand. He pulls me close, the first time we’ve had a chance to do so since Haven. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face into his warm fur mantle. 

He pulls away slightly, and I have only a moment to wonder why, then his lips seal around mine. His kiss is so tender, no passion or heat, just a joining of the lips. His fingers slide under my braid at the base of my neck, fingers gliding into my hairline. He pulls my head back to his chest as he lifts his face from mine. 

“Maker, Scarlett. Why did I have to fall for the one woman that would be constantly putting her life on the line?” I can hear this heartbeat pick up, even through his armor.

I pull away from him, not sure what he meant by that question. “You don’t regret it do you?”

He chuckles, “Not at all. I just worry that I may keel over one day due to the stress.”

I smile, but his words hurt. I don’t want him to constantly be in fear for my life. “Cullen, if this is too much…”

“Scarlett, I care about you. I will not walk away, nor will I allow you to walk away just because I am worried.” He places a kiss on my forehead before taking my hand and walking me back to camp.


	24. Becoming Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for once again regurgitating cannon. I hope this will be the last scene I feel the need to do so. I just wanted to show what Scarlett was feeling in the moment.

Skyhold is more than a fortress. It is absolutely beautiful. Yes, in its current state, it is falling apart, but none of the damage is irreparable. Even abandoned the courtyard has remained lush and green, flowers sprouting on vines and bushes. The masonry has kept intact and sturdy. The battlements offer amazing views of the Frostbacks. The main hall is grand and the windows of the fortress shift between stunning stained glass and intricate ironwork inlays. Every step I take through the hold offers another breathtaking find. Even in the stables there are Elven paintings. 

I know for certain we have found home.

Settling in has become a chore, however. There is plenty of barrack space and we have all been shoved in with no privacy. The men and women have been separated, many finding rooms where they can. The kitchens are now open, as well as the tavern. Funny how those things took priority once we got here. All of our provisions from Haven have kept and there were ale barrels, food acquired while hunting, wheat, barley and smoked fish, among a plethora of other things. Really the only things left to do were clean up and assigning quarters to my inner circle. Once the tavern opened, Sera took a room there. The Chargers and Bull found a room and turned it into a makeshift barrack of their own. Solas decided he was fine with a couch in the circular room off of the Main Hall. Dorian and Vivienne have rooms just off of the library. But, surprisingly, none of the advisors have taken a room yet. Cullen has been sleeping with his men and the rest of us have been sharing a room off of the garden. 

I am emerging from said room, when I see Cassandra, Leliana, Josie and Cullen huddled together in deep discussion. Normally this would have me a little worried, but they seem to be happy. Cullen smirks at something Cassandra says and Josie giggles. I must admit, I feel a bit left out. However, when they notice me, Cassandra waves me over. I make my way to them, only to have everyone disperse. Now I have a feeling they are up to something. 

Cassandra begins walking, headed for the main stairs leading into the Main Hall. I follow.

“They arrive daily from every settlement in the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage. If word has reached these people, it will have reached the Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you.” She stands hands on hips awaiting some kind of response. 

“My efforts put the Inquisition in his way.” 

She stands, examining me for a moment before saying, “Maybe in more ways than you realize.”

We continue up the steps in silence for a moment, the she turns back to me. “The Inquisition requires a leader. The one who has already been leading it.”

A commotion down by the gates draws my attention. It seems everyone within Skyhold has gathered below us. I turn back to Cassandra, confused. It is then I notice Leliana. She is standing on the landing with a massive sword in her hands.

“You,” she states, plainly.

Shocked, I can’t help but question the sanity of this. “Perhaps I didn’t hear you correctly, a Mage at the head of the Inquisition?”

She shakes her head with a small smile on her face. “Not a Mage. You.” The last said with more emphasis than before.

“I happen to be a Mage.” 

She sighs, “I will not pretend that no one will object, but times are changing.” She gestures for me to take the sword from Leliana’s hands. To grasp the symbol of my newfound power. “Perhaps this is what the Maker intended. There would be no Inquisition without you. How it will serve, how you lead, that must be yours to decide.”

I take a moment, unsure of what to say. I know whatever I choose to say will be cemented in the hearts and minds of those around me. They will judge me and my leadership based on this moment. I consider vengeance. I will lead them against the Magister. We will bring him to his knees. But, no, I can set us on the course I intended at Haven. I can show all of Thedas that Mages can stand side-by-side with them, that they do not have to fear us. 

I take the sword from Leliana. “With fear running rampant, they need to see a Mage standing for what is right. I’ll defeat Corypheus standing with them, not over them.” 

Cassandra and Leliana bow slightly, giving me a sense of what is about to happen. Cassandra calls to Cullen, ensuring he rallies the troops to my side.

His voice rings out over the crowd. “Inquisition, will you follow?” 

A roar goes up among all gathered growing louder with every question that leaves Cullen’s lips. “Will you fight? Will we triumph?”

Finally he turns to me, a proud smile across his face. He draws his sword in a show of power and solidarity. “Your leader. Your Herald. Your Inquisitor.” 

Shouts reign as I lift my sword high above my head. My eyes meet Cullen’s and he nods, telling me he is proud but more shocking, Josie’s voice lifts above all others as she shouts her approval. She quickly realizes she has done something less than diplomatic and covers her mouth, but not before Cullen turns to her hiding a laugh. 

Cassandra and Leliana share twin smiles. They knew naming me Inquisitor would have this effect on the crowd below. I realize most of these people have seen me as their leader for some time and they were happy to see me take the position formally. Even Cullen had said he served me, months ago. 

I give the sword back to Cassandra, asking her to place it in our quarters. She smirks.

“We will have to move your quarters into a place befitting a leader. For now, go and mingle with your people. You said you would stand with them. Now, show them you meant it.”

 

Once the short celebration was over, it seemed the work would never end. I left the tavern only to be hounded at every turn. I needed to sign off on building repairs, troop movements. I had to settle everyone in and make plans for what would come next. I wasn’t prepared for the barrage of requests. I wasn’t prepared to meet with Hawke and then stop an argument between Cassandra and Varric. I wasn’t ready to hear that the Inquisition wanted Hawke to be the Inquisitor and I just happened to fall in their lap. 

It seemed like every small victory would have a dark cast to it. Something new would crop up, or someone would say things to me that would make me feel as if this wasn’t a role anyone wanted me to have. It was head spinning. To be accepted and rejected all in the same breath. 

Until I spoke to Cullen. He was so proud of me. He used my new title fondly. He informed me that repairs were running smoothly and that morale was up since I had accepted my title. I knew he was trying to boost mine as well, so I made a joke about my title. He sobered a little but the light didn’t leave his eyes. He said he didn’t find my new position odd at all. I asked if that was the official response. He laughed then. It was good to see him in such high spirits. 

“We needed a leader and you have proven yourself.” We both smiled then. He took my hand in his. “I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word.” 

I knew this was the military Commander speaking, not the man I’d fallen for, but we had little time to discuss what had happened in Haven. I didn’t know if he was trying to mask his regret for sending me to face the Magister, or if he felt he’d failed in some other way. 

“Cullen, none of what happened, was in any way your fault. We couldn’t have prepared for an attack like that. Now we can. Let’s look ahead. According to Hawke, we need to begin tracking down this Warden Stroud. One step at a time, we will bounce back from this.” I want to place a kiss on his cheek, but out here amongst everyone it seems more inappropriate than it had before, so I settle for giving his hand another squeeze before reminding him that we would need to meet in the War Room shortly.


	25. Taking the Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett's mission to Crestwood.

The first War Room meeting in Skyhold was overwhelming. With my new title and with the threat of Corypheus more and more people were requesting our aid. Some of the requests seemed a little petty, some were genuine and some I wondered why we were even bothering to entertain. Josephine was adamant that we do all we could to gain favor in Orlais. Leliana insisted we stick with tracking down the Wardens, sure that it would lead us to some of the answers we sought. Cullen requested that we track down his lost men in the Fallow Mire. Then there were the requests that were pouring in from random nobles -- my family included – requests from my inner circle and even a request for aid in Denerim. I was surprised by the last since King Alistair barely acknowledged my presence in Redcliffe. 

I decided it best to follow up on Hawke’s lead with the Warden, sent soldiers to find what they could in the Fallow Mire, asked Josie to deal with my family and sent scouts to acquire the recipe for a grenade that Sera insisted we needed. Cullen wasn’t too happy about using the scouts for what he deemed a pointless mission, but he didn’t question it once I had pointed out it may give us an advantage in battle. 

“I will go to Crestwood in the morning. Hawke insisted that I meet her there personally. I will try to find out what this Warden Stroud knows about the disappearance of the other Wardens. It’s probably best that I take Blackwall, maybe that will lessen Stroud’s apprehension of meeting with us.” No one argued with me, or even made suggestions for the remainder of the party. It was odd. 

We wrapped up the meeting and I turned to leave, but Cullen’s hand on mine stopped me. Leliana and Josie proceeded out the door. 

“This will be the longest we’ve been apart since before we left for Therinfall.” His forehead rests on mine and he wraps his arms around me.

“Are you saying you are going to miss me, Commander?” 

“I’m going to miss you, worry about you, and need you here. I know you have to go. I know I am needed here. Just be safe, please.”

_______________________

Yeah, I didn’t listen. 

Upon our arrival in Crestwood, we were informed that we would need to clear out the bandits holed up in the keep in order to reach the dam. It was the only way to drain the lake and allow us access to the rift. Undead were climbing from the water and attacking the villagers. We couldn’t abandon them to this fate. Luckily, I had brought Bull along with Blackwall. 

We reached the keep, and I said an apology to Cullen in my head as Bull smashed in the front door. Archers were ready for us and I cast my barrier spell. Bull and Blackwall pushed forward as Varric and I hung back. We were making good headway when Mabari came pouring out of the side doors. It would have been good to know the bandits had more than typical weapons. I cursed as one bit into my leathers, not landing on anything vital. I scrambled up the ladder to the rooftop the archers had fallen from, Varric not far behind me. I ensured barriers remained around Blackwall and Bull and Varric picked off the bandits coming down the steps. 

We were only too hopeful to think this was the entire force of the bandits. We made it inside the keep's walls only to find more of them lying in wait. If I didn’t die here, Cullen was sure to kill me. Again, I found a perch, away from the fighting, casting barriers and lightning. Varric took the perch opposite me. The fight was going well, until out of the shadows, an assassin knocked me from the roof’s ledge. They had collided with my barrier spell, but the fall hurt. I was slow to get up. The assassin landed feet from me, ready to strike, but Varric was quicker. Before I could cast, the assassin had an arrow protruding from their now exploded eye socket.

“Fall back.” I heard one of the bandits call out. 

Shit. That meant there were more of them. 

“Boss, we going after them,” Bull asked.

“Might as well. We clear them out and we’ve got a stronghold in a good position. We could use it for our scouts. Could be good for trade.” I shrug and we proceed through the keep. 

We encounter no more resistance until we make it to the roof of the keep. I tell Varric to take out the archer on the edge of the battlements and he wastes no time. The archer’s scream as he falls from the edge alerts the rest of the bandits that we are there and Bull wastes no time in taking the other two on the roof down. I breathe a sigh of relief, but too early.

A massive figure emerges from the keep’s tower. I look to Bull and he nods, charging our newest foe. When the bandit’s hammer falls on Bull, knocking him back a few feet, I realize we are in trouble. Others have followed their leader into the fray and I have only a moment to react. I cast my barrier around Bull and Blackwall only to have one of the bandits charge toward me. I send out a Mind Blast, causing the bandit to become unsteady, but he doesn’t fall. I look toward Varric, only to find he is in the same position as me. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The bandit’s shield collides with my arm, sending a shockwave of pain up my arm and through my shoulder, causing me to drop my staff. I summon a fireball, but it is deflected. I can feel my mana drain as my panacea is funneled to my arm. 

No. Not now. 

As a last resort, I call on the power of the mark. I had been able to suck the demons in the cave back through a rift I opened myself. I didn’t know if it would help here, but I had to do something. 

The green glow appears above our heads, drawing the eye of everyone in the fray. To my surprise, it seems to hold the bandits in limbo. They are frozen in place, the rift draining the life from each one. It is horrifying to watch and I shout to my companions to step back. 

When the light fades, all eyes are on me. The bandits lay on the ground, the result of what I just did.

“What the hell was that,” Varric shouts from his place on the battlements. 

“I… I don’t know. I was able to do that in the cave when I was attacked by demons. I thought it would help. I didn’t know what it would do, but it was either that or lose this fight.”

“Yeah, well warn us next time. I could feel the pull of that thing.” Varric shakes himself as he looks at the fallen bodies.

“Well, Boss, what do you say? Let’s claim this place and get to that rift.” Bull chooses to ignore my opening a rift in favor of what he does understand.

 

After closing the rift and meeting with Stroud, we decide it would be best to head back to Skyhold and inform everyone of Stroud’s plan to venture to the Western Approach. 

Scouts had set up shop in the keep and we returned to Crestwood to find the Mayor had run off. I found his confession of flooding Old Crestwood and knew I would have to have the Inquisition bring him in to answer for all the death we had found in the village. 

When we made it to camp on the edge of the village, there was a missive waiting for me. It had the Commander’s seal. He had heard of our assault on the keep and he was not happy. The letter stated that we should have sent word. He would have ensured we had the backup. I wanted to be angry since I felt we were quite successful, but I couldn’t fault him for worrying. 

I considered sending a letter back but didn’t know what to say. We would be back in Skyhold soon enough and I could explain then.


	26. Withdrawal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen realizes just how much Scarlett's presence, or lack thereof, effects him.

Scarlett had been gone for nearly a week. The journey to Crestwood wasn’t a long one, but it seemed every time she settled one thing in the small village another would pop up. Cullen received report after report of what she had accomplished. First stopping the undead, then meeting with Warden Stroud, then taking down the Red Templar’s camp – complete with a wyvern hunt – but what worried him the most was her successful attempt to take a keep filled with bandits. According to the reports, Bull had charged the gate, smashing it to pieces, as the others waited to assault those inside. The report he read then stated that Scarlett and her party may have even lost the fight if it wasn’t for a new power she had discovered from the mark. Immediately he had sat down and penned a letter to her, telling her just how foolish it was to not call for back up. He knew it would probably make her angry, but he had told her to be careful. Taking a keep was far from that simple request. 

Cullen had thought these events were what led to his now pounding head. He had thought it was worry over his love being in constant danger, but no. Yesterday, as he sat down to breakfast, the cold sweats began. His body started shaking, his mind clouded, words becoming ever more difficult. Cassandra had pulled him aside to ensure he was okay and he’d tried to reassure her, only to lose his balance as they made their way to the War Room. 

“Commander, if you need to rest…” Cassandra began, but Cullen cut her off.

“I am fine. Just give me a moment.” He growled.

“Is this the first time,” she asked cautiously.

“Yes,” he managed to say.

“I am surprised. You had been doing so well.” She crosses her arms over her chest and examines him.

“Scarlett,” is all he says in response.

“What about the Inquisitor?” She seems to be confused by his invocation.

He attempts to clear his mind, rubbing at the pain in his temples. “She’s been with me. I think she kept the symptoms at bay.” 

A quizzical expression crosses the Seeker’s face. “Truly? I didn’t know that was possible. We should look into that. Maybe if others wish to follow in your footsteps, we can have Spirit Healers on hand to assist them.” She seems to fold into her thoughts for a few moments before realizing she should be helping Cullen. 

“How bad is it,” she asks him.

“Just a headache. I’m a little dizzy, but nothing I can’t handle.” To prove that true, he walks the rest of the way to the War Room, attempting to keep his pace and his footing steady.

He must have succeeded because Cassandra asked no more questions after that.

 

That night was much worse. The nightmares came, hitting him full force for the first time in years. It was as if he were back there. Kinloch Hold surrounded him, pulled at him. The demon tempted him, his lips met hers and he could feel her body pressed into his. He didn’t want this, but he couldn’t stop it. It was as if he had no control over his body. His mind was screaming, but it didn’t stop the moan that left his lips as the demon slid her fingers over his skin, down his trousers. 

Cullen awoke with a start. His body was coated in sweat and his erection throbbed against his belly. He looked to his shameful response to the dream. How dare his body betray him like that. He could see the beaded tip, knew that if he touched himself, it wouldn’t be long before he found release. It pulsed, begging for his grip, needing to be sated. He pulled his pillow over his face and screamed into it. This was everything he had feared when he first decided to stop taking the lyrium. He had seen others fall to the madness their nightmares could produce. 

He decided then, not to give the nightmares purchase. He forced his mind to thoughts of Scarlett. He let the image of her chase away any memory of Katarina and the demon. The thought of her long crimson hair, the way it curled around her in sleep. He thought of her cherry lips and the way her lower lip would sink below her teeth. He thought of her hands on his body as she attempted to quell his nightmares that first night. He thought of her singing, her voice so rich and pure.

It wasn’t long before he was touching himself in thoughts of her, rather than what had originally produced his arousal. The memory of her hair fanning out across her back. The thought of her bent over the bed, the way he had mimicked the memory in their first joining. The way her body felt underneath his. The way she curled her body around his in sleep. He let thoughts of her pour into him. She would be the way he fought the memory of the demon. She would be his balm against the darkness. 

 

Cullen slept little in the nights following. He knew he needed the rest, but he was afraid of repeating the nightmares and what came after. He wasn’t ashamed of touching himself when thoughts of Scarlett came; it was what produced his arousal that made him uneasy.

Looking in the glass, he saw the deep bruises under his eyes. He saw the thin lines around them were exaggerated and the red veins within. He looked like shit. He felt like shit, and this was only the beginning. 

Cullen climbed down the ladder to his office, a scout already present.

“The Seeker asked that I come check on you, Ser.” The scout's tone was bright and cheerful. It set Cullen’s nerves on edge. Maybe this is how Scarlett feels in the mornings. 

He knew he couldn’t toss a book at the scouts head, but he was tempted to. “Tell the Seeker I am fine.”

She nodded to Cullen and left his quarters. It was then that Cullen noticed the tray on his desk. There were a few pastries, portions of meat and cheeses and a goblet of spiced wine. There was a folded piece of paper on top of one of the flaky rounds. He opened the note to find the Seeker’s scrawl and one simple word. Eat.

Cullen tossed the note aside. He knew it’s been a few days since he’s joined the others in the hall for any meals. He hadn’t wanted to worry anyone with his current state, instead. going to the kitchens and grabbing whatever was available at the time. His stomach ached at the thought of food, and not in a good way. The pastries smelled too sweet, the meats and cheeses, too rich. The wine, while pleasant enough doing down, tasted horrible when he was forced to his knees. His body rejecting the bittersweet fluid. 

Shamed again by his body’s response to the lack of lyrium in his system, he finds a rag and cleans the mess on the floor. Not wanting anyone else to see the remnants of his withdrawal, he tossed the soiled rag out the window. 

 

The following day, Scarlett finally arrived back in Skyhold. He had been tempted to rush out to meet her but made his way coolly and carefully down the steps leading down from the battlements. He tried to maintain a professional air, but couldn’t keep the smile from his face when he finally spotted her handing off her horse. She was a filthy mess, but Cullen had no other thought in his mind but wrapping his arms around her and kissing her until she begged him for more. 

Her eyes met his and she smiled. She had missed him, too. Quickly though, she turned her eyes aside, her look one of apprehension. It confused Cullen. How could she smile so brightly at him and then look away as if she were ashamed? 

Scarlett walked toward him, eyes still downcast. “Commander,” she stated in lieu of a more familiar greeting. 

Cullen was taken aback, the smile he had reserved for her, now becoming a scowl. “Inquisitor.” 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t careful. Are you still mad?” She looked sheepishly up at him. 

Cullen let loose a sigh of relief. She was worried about his letter. He had almost forgotten about her assault on the keep. He was so happy to see her, he hadn’t even thought of what she had been doing for the last few weeks. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, about that…” he started, his smile returning.

She stood, ready to take whatever lecture he had prepared, but when she looked at him and saw his smile had returned, she smiled back.

“I need to bathe. I’m sure I smell like death, but meet me after, on the battlements?”

Cullen nodded his assent and she reached out squeezing his hand before turning and heading up the steps of the keep.


	27. Return From Crestwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett returns from Crestwood to find Cullen has been suffering in her absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one.

Josie met me at the top of the steps, telling me that my quarters were finally finished. She was so excited to show me that she nearly tripped on the steps leading up to the topmost point in the keep. 

We enter the large room and Josie turns a pleased look my direction, only to shift into a satisfied grin as she takes in my open mouth, my wide eyes. The room is gorgeous. The tall, nearly ground to ceiling windows, the massive bed and couch, covered in the finest fabrics the Inquisition could get its hands on. All of it was sheer perfection. There was even a desk and shelves behind it filled with books. It seemed my advisors had spared no expense. I had to wonder how much of this was done by Josie and how much was done by the other advisors. It seemed like every want I had ever voiced to any of the three had been fulfilled.

“There is a surprise waiting for you just behind that door.” She gestures to a door next to my massive bed. “I will leave you to settle in.” She bows and makes her way down the stairs. 

Curiosity gets the best of me and I open the door that hides my prize.

Finally, a real bath. I had jokingly asked Josie for a marble tub before I left, and sure enough, she had fulfilled my request. While I am quite sure this is Josie’s idea of keeping my needs met, I can’t help but wonder if all of my requests will be met so quickly, regardless of intent. I need to be careful about what I ask of my people. It would do no one any good to take all of my demands so seriously. Who knows what I would demand if someone woke me early in the morning, or while my menses was upon me. 

I am pleased to find the bath has already been prepared. The steam coming off of the water scented with lavender oil, another favorite of mine. I also saw fresh sprigs of the flowery herb floating on the surface. 

I remove my armor and slide into the warm water. A sigh slips from my lips, the relief of having something warm wrapped around me after all of the undead and rain is more than my body is prepared for. A shiver runs through me. 

I want nothing more than to lie in the water, letting its heat sink into me, but the sound of armored boots sounds outside the small room’s door. At first, I am excited, thinking it is surely Cullen, but the steps are far too soft.

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra’s questioning voice.

“I’m in here Cas.” I know she hates the nickname, but we’ve become too close to me to call her Seeker. “Josie got me a tub. It is exquisite.”

“Oh, I can come back later.” 

“Don’t be silly. Neither one of us are modest, come in.”

She pushes open the door and steps into the room, spotting a small stool and takes a seat. “Inquisitor, I wanted to speak to you about the Commander.”

I know I am blushing but I hadn’t anticipated this coming from Cassandra. I knew someone would have something to say about our involvement but to be ambushed in the bathtub was not how I imagined addressing the issue.

“Yes,” I manage and for some reason, I am tempted to cover myself, which seems silly. Hadn’t I just told Cassandra I am not modest?

“While you were gone, the first signs of his withdrawal began to show.”

Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that. It should have been one of the first things on my mind. I knew without my presence the signs would begin to present themselves. I knew his nightmares would get worse. I had noticed the fine lines in his face seemed exaggerated and that his normally bright eyes had darkened since I left, but I thought that was possibly because he hadn’t slept well the night before.

“Cullen told me that he believed you were the reason his symptoms stayed hidden so long.” Cassandra’s gaze is intense. I know interrogations were a part of her job as a Seeker, but I had thought never to see that look in her eyes again. It makes me squirm.

To mask my nerves, I run my fingers through the water. “Lyrium withdrawal is not a secret in the Circle. We’ve all heard of it, but also know there isn’t much to be done about it. While I was in the Circle, I happened to find out my skills would allow me to help in certain ways.” I pause but she bids me continue.

“One evening, I was helping deliver food to some of the Circles inmates. Blood Mages, Templars lost to madness, those kinds of people. One of the Templars was so far gone, he had to physically be fed. I felt no fear for the man, so I volunteered to do it. All was fine until my arm brushed against his. His eyes darted to mine and he gripped my arm. I thought in that moment I would finally see the atrocity of the Templar Order, but that wasn’t what happened. In his eyes, I could see the moisture begin to form. He was crying. He spoke to me then, the first time anyone had heard his voice in months. He told me I had chased the demon away. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I smiled at him reassuringly, hoping he would release me. He didn’t. He held on as if I was his anchor in this world.”

Cassandra looks even more puzzled by this than she had initially. “Was this your magic?”

“Yes. After that incident, I began studying my powers with fervor. There isn’t much to be gleaned from texts, so I would experiment.” At her shocked look, I feel the need to add, “Nothing harmful. I would simply touch those who were in pain, or troubled. I began venturing into the sick ward. No one questioned my motives because I seemed to be helping. It was there that I learned, my voice could have as much of an effect as my touch. The healers assumed I was lifting their spirits, and I guess that is probably true, but I knew more than that. It wasn’t until word of what a Warden named Anders could do reached our circle that I figured out more.” I laugh, and Cassandra crosses her arms in front of her, not liking the direction our conversation is going.

“Anyway, there was also a College Mage named Wynne, she made her rounds of the Circles, eventually coming to ours. She tutored me for a time until she was called elsewhere. I learned much from her.”

“Could you do this for others wishing to be free of lyrium?” There is a new hope in her eyes. Something I so rarely see from her.

“Yes. Though, I’ve never attempted to help more than one person at a time. I don’t know about a large scale spell or anything like that.”

“This is truly good news. We need to find more Spirit Healers, see if we can bring them into the Inquisition.” Her excitement has me wanting to join in, but I know the truth of it. 

“Cassandra, you have to know, those with an affinity for spirit magic are extremely rare.” I hate to shoot her hopes down so quickly, but she needs to know this is not a venture worth pursuing at this time.

“Solas knows how to heal. Adan has the talents, as well. I don’t think it is that rare.”

I try my best to give her a reassuring smile but fear it may only be a grimace. “They know the spells and can summon spirit magic, yes. They were not born with an affinity for spirit. I can cast fire and ice, but it is not as strong as an elemental mage’s spells. I can throw a knockback spell, but I am no Battle-Mage. A mage is generally born with an affinity for a specific kind of magic. We can learn the others, just as you could learn to use a bow, but it doesn’t suit our strengths. You wield a sword because it suits you. You are strong of mind and body, yet your brute strength couldn’t be matched with Sera’s skill and swift, calculated movements with a bow. In an archery contest, she’d win every time.”

She seems to consider this for a few moments. It surprises me that these things would need explaining to a Seeker, but it was no different from Cullen’s understanding of magic. They have worked their entire lives around Mages but have never really understood anything about them, about us. I wonder if the fault lay in their fear of magic, or in the fact that Mages have done nothing to foster an understanding of our abilities. 

“Maybe it is something to look into after we have dealt with Corypheus and the Civil war in Orlais. Would you consider looking into it at a later date? Do you think there is any information you could give to Leliana to help her track down any other Mages like you?”

“Of course,” I state and she stands, exiting the small room.

 

Cullen stands, looking out over the Frostbacks, he seems lost in thought and does not hear me approach. I take his hand in mine and he breathes in deeply. I watch as the tension leaves his shoulders. I know he needs more than this, but at the moment there are many scouts and archers standing on the battlements with us. 

“Cassandra came to see me.” 

He turns to me then, eyes filled with uneasiness. “Did she,” he asks. 

“She told me your withdrawal symptoms have begun to show. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me.” I drop my eyes from him as my chest constricts seeing for the first time the deep bruises under his eyes.

He takes my chin between his fingers, lifting my eyes to his. “No, Scarlett, don’t be sorry. This isn’t your fault. We both knew you would have to leave at some point. Even now we are going to have to be prepared for you to venture to the Western Approach. You will be gone much longer then. I will be fine.” 

Looking into each other’s eyes, it is difficult to not close the distance between us and lock my lips into his. He must be feeling the same because his eyes leave mine to follow the trail of my tongue as it darts out in anticipation.

He releases me, turning back to the mountains. 

We stand like that for a few minutes, his hand in mine as we gaze out over the white expanse of the distance. My thoughts drift over all that I know is coming, the meeting with Warden Stroud and Hawke, Corypheus, the Red Templars. It makes me uneasy, but with Cullen’s hand in mine, I feel stronger, more capable, than I should. 

My stomach growls in disapproval of being neglected for so long and Cullen laughs. It brings a smile to my face.

“Are you always hungry,” he asks, and I notice his eyes are a touch brighter, his skin a bit more flushed. 

“Hey, I’m a growing girl. There’s nothing wrong with a healthy appetite.” I smile back at him and he leads me down the stairs to the Main Hall, releasing my hand as we approach the crowds of people gathered around the tavern and grounds around the main staircase.

I hate that we have to do that, especially when his hand in mine seemed to be enough to give him some relief. 

Our meal that night was Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie. Someone must have let slip that it was my favorite. I eat with fervor, having had little seafood since this all began. My stomach now making happy noises. I know every time I take a bite, small little moans are escaping from my lips, but I can seem to make them stop.

Cullen watches me, enjoying how a simple meal is all it takes to make me so happy. I am nearly finished when I realize he has only picked at his plate, eating small bites but avoiding the chunks of fish. His wine goblet is still full but he seems to have eaten all of the bread given to him.

“Commander, do you not like fish,” I ask jokingly. “This could be detrimental to our relationship,” I whisper in his ear.

He flushes, his fork pushing the pie into a mushy mess. “It’s not that. I just haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” 

Oh, the withdrawal. Cassandra hadn’t mentioned that he wasn’t eating. 

I keep my tone bright and cheery, “Well, I am finished. What do you say about taking this up to your office? I need to speak with you about the upcoming meeting anyway.”

He nods, unsure of my motivations, and rises from his seat. I take a few more pieces of bread and a few pastries from the table, and request a refill of my goblet, handing Cullen’s to him. When the servant refills my glass I lean in and request that another serving of the pie be sent to Cullen’s quarters. She nods and heads for the kitchens. 

Cullen doesn’t inquire what I had whispered in the servant’s ear but gives me a quizzical look before we make our way out of the Main Hall. We make small talk during our trek to his office. I notice he is holding the goblet of wine as far from his person as he can without attempting to make his revulsion of the liquid obvious. This concerns me. He’s always seemed to like the spiced beverage before, even drinking too much of it the first night in Haven. He had tried explaining that Templars don’t drink. They need to be clear-headed when dealing with their charges. This was untrue. I had seen Templars drinking on many occasions, but it could have been a personal rule of his.

When we enter his office, I place the bread and goblet I had been carrying on his desk and take his. “Take off your armor.” 

His eyebrows rise in surprise and a slow smile creeps across his lips. “So demanding.” 

“Cullen, you are not doing well. Cassandra didn’t tell me you weren’t eating. Now, take off your armor.”

His smile is replaced with a scowl, but he does as I requested, laying the pieces of his armor in a neat pile beside his bookcase. 

I pull his chair out, and gesture for him to sit. I place his goblet beside mine and he frowns. 

“I can’t drink that.” He points to the goblet I just sat on his desk.

“I’m not asking you to. Not yet.” 

He tilts his head, turning back to me. 

“Just sit still. Look at the door.” 

He obeys and I slide my fingers through his hair. He moans in appreciation, I add some pressure, massaging his scalp, his neck, and his shoulders. I dip into his tunic, running my hands along the expanse of his chest, then down his back. Slowly, I send out pulses of magic. As my hands roam over his body the magic spreads, sinking into his skin, pulsing between my body and his.

A knock on the door breaks the spell. 

“Enter,” I say as I pull my hands away from Cullen. His hair is a mess, but I doubt the servant will care. He tends to leave War Room meetings a bit more unkempt than when he entered. This shouldn’t be any different.

She comes in and places the warm dish on Cullen’s desk, proffering a fork to the Commander. He takes it, turning a frown to me.

“Thank you,” I say, dismissing the servant.

I stand over Cullen, arms crossed. “Eat.”

“I told you, I don’t have an appetite.” His stomach growls and he glares at his body’s betrayal.

“Eat,” I say softer this time and take a seat across the desk from him, picking up one of the pastries I had taken from the hall, and my wine goblet.

He takes the first bite of his dinner and his eyebrows rise again. “This is really good.” He frowns down at his plate. “Did they put something different in this one?”

“No. It’s the same thing I ate earlier. You just couldn’t enjoy it because your stomach didn’t want to accept it.” I gesture to the wine goblet and he takes a tentative sip. Then, after realizing his body wouldn’t reject it, took a larger gulp, making a satisfied noise in his throat as the warm liquid sent its own form of magic through him

We sat and talked as Cullen finished his meal, even taking one of the pastries I had brought for him.

With bellies full of wine and food, we were both beginning to get sleepy. I yawned and Cullen said that we should probably go to bed. I agreed and took our plates and goblets, setting them beside the door so anyone coming to retrieve them wouldn’t have to go far. 

I make my way up the ladder to his bedchamber. I am halfway up when Cullen clears his throat. I turn to face him over my shoulder.

“And where do you think you are going?” He crosses his arms over his chest but can’t keep the smile from his face. 

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?” I proceed up the ladder with no more argument from him. 

By the time he reaches the top of the ladder, I am in my smalls. I walk over to him and lift his tunic; he bends so I can remove it. 

“You know this isn’t wise. What if someone finds you here?”

I unlace his trousers and watch as they fall to the floor. “I don’t care, Cullen. I think most people know we are together and are simply too polite to say it. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if everyone knew? Then we could stop hiding so badly in public.”

His chuckle brings a smile to my face. “The Herald of Andraste and the Commander of the Inquisition, it will have people talking.” 

I pull his body to mine and he closes the distance, his lips finally meeting mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is still enjoying the story.


	28. Eat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is a double entendre. NSFW ALERT! 
> 
> I hadn't planned to do this chapter from Cullen's perspective, so thank AzerFall for requesting more SMUT! 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I didn't do much editing here, so sorry for that.
> 
> *Have gone back and done some editing, cuz it was real bad y'all...

Cullen had been surprised to find that Scarlett’s hand in his was enough to chase away some of the symptoms of his withdrawal. As she slid her fingers through his on the battlements, a peace settled over his mind. It wasn’t as potent as when she had her hands on his bare skin, but it was enough. When they went to dinner, she sat as close as she could, her leg brushing up against his, their fingers meeting over the butter. She kept her tone light and playful, but he could see the worry in her eyes. He had tried to eat, but nothing tasted good, everything smelled bad. The fish was the worst. He could almost feel the oils sliding along his tongue, without even tasting it. Scarlett noticed as she notices everything. She hadn’t wished to make a display of what she intended to do about it, so she asked a serving girl to bring another dish to his room.

When they made it to his office, she took charge. She told him to remove his armor and instantly he became aroused. The no-nonsense tone, her look of cocky demand sent a shiver through his body. He had never been commanded in such a way. Yes, he’d been given orders before, but none that held fire and passion behind them. 

“So demanding.” He couldn’t help but smile. He wanted her. He had missed her. His body had missed hers.

Her arms folded across her chest and she glared at him. Her no-nonsense tone now mimicked in her stare. His hopes of having her here and now were dwindling. He knew he had returned her scowl with one of his own. 

“Cullen, you are not doing well. Cassandra didn’t tell me you weren’t eating. Now, take off your armor,” she said, accompanied by a hurry-up gesture of her hand. 

He didn’t know what she intended but proceeded to remove the confining metal. He didn’t rush but moved efficiently. He could see Scarlett’s patience was at an end. He could almost imagine her with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot, if he took any longer than necessary. 

With his armor removed, she gestured to the seat behind his desk. He was certain she was going to make him eat and drink the food and wine she had brought up to his office, standing over him like a mother hen. He knew his body would reject it and he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of her. His stomach roiled at the thought. He had been careful; ensuring none of those under his command, or any of the other advisors would see what was happening to him. He knew Cassandra kept a close eye on him, he’d even insisted she do so, but he couldn’t hide what was going on inside of him from Scarlett. He couldn’t allow himself to be so helpless in front of her, either.

“I can’t drink that,” Cullen tells her, gesturing to the twin goblets on his desk.

She smiles at him then, not condescending, but knowing. “I’m not asking you to, not yet.”

Cullen had to crane his neck to get a better look at Scarlett as she made her way behind him. He was still unsure what she intended. 

Taking his head in her hands, she forces his gaze from hers. “Just sit still. Look at the door.”

He acquiesces. His nerves raise a fraction because he can’t see what she is doing, but then he feels the change in the air, the gentle pull of someone summoning magic. She was going to use her healing abilities. He couldn’t help but smile. He should have known this would be what she wanted. It had only been a few weeks, but he had let himself forget that she was always intent on taking care of those around her. 

When her fingers slid into his hair, she pulled at the strands and then pushed into his scalp, pure bliss spread through him. He moaned loudly. Her hands slipped under his tunic, massaging his chest, his neck, then his back. 

Cullen could feel Scarlett’s magic enter his body, chasing away all of his aches and pains. His mind became clearer, his stomach settled, and his muscles unclenched under her ministrations. 

He was on the verge of falling asleep when a knock sounded at the door.

Scarlett pulled her hands from his tunic and tried to straighten his hair a bit before bidding the guest entry. A serving girl pushed open the oak door, fish pie in hand. She placed the dish in front of Cullen, assuming it was for him, and Scarlett thanked the girl and walked her back to the door. 

After the door was again shut, Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest and commanded him to eat. He was still a little uncertain if he should. He knew her magic worked quickly, but he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her. He knew he did that enough already. 

“I told you, I don’t have an appetite.” His stomach chose that moment to negate his words. He looked down at the offending body part and scowled. So maybe he was hungry. It had been days since he’d had anything of substance. Mostly just bread and water, a priests’ diet. 

Scarlett pulled a chair to his desk, taking her seat across from him. “Eat,” this time the word was almost whispered. Her concern overriding her need to be authoritative. She took one of the pastries and her wine goblet and made a show of consuming both, trying to entice him to do the same. 

Not wanting her efforts to be in vain, he took a dainty bite, ensuring some of the fish made it onto his fork this time. He was surprised to find the dish was actually quite good. Even with his appetite, he had thought the combination of fish and egg sounded revolting. He should have trusted Scarlett’s tastes. He knew she was an excellent cook, and that this was her favorite dish. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Even so, he wondered if her instructions to the serving girl were more than a simple request to have another serving brought to him. “This is really good. Did they put something different in this one?”

“No. It’s the same thing I ate earlier. You just couldn’t enjoy it because your stomach didn’t want to accept it.” She then gestured to the wine goblet sitting in front of Cullen. 

His body was accepting the food well enough, but he couldn’t help but think of when he had thrown up the wine only a few days ago. He really didn’t want to do that in front of her and it made his stomach queasy for an entirely different reason. 

At her questioning glare, he decided to take a sip of the wine. The warmth that spread through him was just as good as it had been that first night in Haven. He took an even bigger swallow, letting the warmth of the liquid and the buzz of the alcohol run through him. He couldn’t help the moan that slipped from his lips. He had been afraid that after his last encounter with the drink, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it again.

He looked up from his food and wine, to see Scarlett’s pleased grin. Now that she knew he would be okay, she was free to be herself and not his caregiver. 

After eating and conversing for some time, Scarlett let out a massive yawn, stretching her body. Her tunic rose just enough to expose her taut belly and with the buzz in Cullen’s head, he could only think of running his tongue over her exposed flesh. 

“We should probably be going to bed,” she said on the tail end of another yawn. 

He was not ready for her to leave, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want to wear her out on her first day back. He wanted her company, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be selfish about it. 

Cullen watched as she gathered the dirty dishes from his desk. He had assumed she would drop them off on her way to her room, but she surprised him by placing them just inside the door. He knew this was a habit she had picked up in the Circle. While she said her Circle was different, this was something prisoners did. Eat the food delivered through the slot, and then place your bowl next to the slot to have it washed and refilled. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her habits from the Circle bleed into everyday things, but this one pulled at his heart. The Mages in Kirkwall were most certainly prisoners. He had seen this done a million times with no thought what-so-ever. 

He was pulled from these thoughts when he realized she had made no move to leave, instead, she turned to walk to the ladder leading up to his bedchamber. When her hand hit the first rung, an apprehension grew in his belly. They had discussed this. She couldn’t be found in his chambers or he in hers. 

He stood, crossing his arms over his chest, but couldn’t stop the smile that played on his lips. “And where do you think you are going?”

She turns to him, looking over her shoulder. “I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

Cullen is stunned. He makes no move to join her. This could end badly for both of them. The rumors, the gossip. What would people start to say of her, of them? 

Finally, he decided to join her. Maybe he could convince her to leave. That would be best. But Maker, it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to spend every night in her arms. He wanted to wake up to her every morning. He wanted to feel her heated breath on his neck as she began to stir. He wanted to be the first thing she saw in the morning and the last thing she saw at night.

He made it to the top of the ladder and all thoughts of making her leave were vanquished by her nearly naked body before him. She crossed the room to him, his eyes glued to her swaying hips. They swung rhythmically with each step. He knew what she could do with those hips. 

When she reached him, she wasted no time, lifting his tunic to her full height and Cullen bent so she could remove the shirt completely. She smiled, her eyes hooded, and Cullen remembered that she was tired. It didn’t stop her. Her hands moved to undo the laces of his trousers, watching as they fell to the floor. 

He decided to give her an out. Letting her know that if she wanted to leave, she could. “You know this isn’t wise. What if someone finds you here?”

She sighed, her eyes met his. “I don’t care, Cullen.” 

This brought an unexpected smile to his lips. She doesn’t care if people know that they are together. She had proven that once before, but that was before she was named Inquisitor. That was before she held a power that could rival kings. 

“I think most people know we are together and are simply too polite to say it. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if everyone knew? Then we could stop hiding so badly in public.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. So many times he had held himself back from kissing her or holding her hand, only to end up standing too close to her, smiling at her for no reason, or simply watching her too closely. They were extremely bad a hiding their relationship. 

A satisfied grin spreads across her face and her voice deepens, “The Herald of Andraste and the Commander of the Inquisition, it will have people talking.”

Maker, he didn’t want to think about the rumors that would spread through the troops, but those thoughts ended quickly as Scarlett pulled his body to her and brought her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her and led her body to the edge of the bed. She nearly stumbled, but Cullen caught her, guiding her gently onto the mattress. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, lip sinking under her teeth, as Cullen knelt before her. He trailed light kisses from her knees to her hips, then spread her legs and placed the searing brands along her inner thighs. His fingers began stroking her nub and she nearly crushed Cullen’s head as her body fought the intensity of the pleasure. 

He chuckled against her thigh, loving the reactions he could elicit with a touch. He placed his palms on each thigh, not wanting to be denied access to any part of her and spread her legs wider. His lips pressed into the damp fabric masking her desire. He lifted one hand, replacing it with his shoulder to keep her open to him. Pushing her smalls to the side, he slid a finger inside of her. She moaned, letting her body fall back onto the bed. He stroked her slowly, watching as she writhed on the bed, but he wanted more from her. 

His tongue flicked her swollen nub and her body arched, her breath quickened. He sucked the tender flesh, rolling his tongue over her pearl. He slid another finger inside, working her from within and without. Her thighs tightened, pressing into his shoulder with an effort that would have her bruised and sore in the morning. When she came, her body lifted from the bed, pulling his mouth away from her. 

“Maker.” He heard her whisper with a breathy sigh.

Cullen removed his smalls, ready to be inside of her, but Scarlett had other ideas. She came to her hands and knees on the edge of the bed. She wet her cherry red lips and reached out to him. Gripping his cock, she brought Cullen’s body back to hers. Her mouth enveloped him, her hand stroking what she couldn’t make fit inside. 

Cullen groaned. Her mouth worked over his head, down his shaft, meeting her fingers and back up again. Her strokes were slow and sensual, stretching the pleasure to its fullest extent. 

His hands stroked her back, but he wanted more. He pulled the strings of her breast band, lifting the fabric just enough to release her ample bosom. He bent over her, hands massaging her breasts as she sucked and licked. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, causing her to moan around him and the sensation was almost enough to make him lose every inch of control he was clinging to.

He pulled away from her then, not wanting to release until he was inside of her. She seemed to understand because she lifted the breast band over her head, tossing it to the floor and climbed out of her smalls. It was almost humorous to watch, her leg getting caught and nearly losing her balance. She didn’t seem to care. Once removed, she lay back on the bed and beckoned him to her side. 

He slid in beside her and turned her on her side. His hands slid over her back, down her hip. He wanted to give his hands access to every inch of her. He entered her from behind, lifting her leg slightly so he could stroke her nub, his other hand sliding under her head so he could grip her breast. 

He pumped into her, slow at first, but with every stroke of his cock, every answering stroke of his fingers, her moans grew into screams. 

Her hand reached around her back seeking more contact. She gripped his hip, her fingers digging into the flesh she found. 

He didn’t know what possessed him to do what he did next, but the hand that had held her breast went to her mouth. She opened her lips and he plunged his fingers into her welcoming heat. She sucked and licked, just as she had done to his cock only moments ago. It sent him over the edge and he sank deep into her. She screamed her orgasm around his fingers as his cock grew within her. Within seconds his orgasm followed hers.

He held her to him, to sensitive to do anything else. If he were to pull from her now, he may orgasm again as she clenched around him, trying to keep him in place. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, as the loose tendrils tickled his face. 

“Cullen, you are amazing.” 

He was sure she meant in bed, but it made his heart swell. She always said things to him that he never expected to hear. He didn’t say anything, just held onto her. 

Soon, she was snoring next to him. He had known she was tired even before they climbed the ladder. He lay next to her, knowing that he would never let her go. She had seeded herself into his heart.


	29. Old Habits Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finds Scarlett falling into old habits from the Circle, and he doesn't like it. 
> 
> FLUFF!!!
> 
> Short and sweet.

“The Trevelyan’s have requested a stay here at Skyhold. They wish to see their daughter in all her holy glory.” Josie stated.

“Is that what they said? In all my holy glory?” I lift my hand to massage the bridge of my nose. I knew they would want this, if for nothing more than to share in my power.

“Yes, Your Worship.” A small blush tints her cheeks. She knows how much I dislike being praised, or having people think of me as anything more than Scarlett. I know she will not drop the formalities, for fear of doing so in public, but it is irritating none the less. 

“No,” I say, rising from my chair. I walk out to my balcony. Resting my arms on the railing, I gaze out over Skyhold. 

“Inquisitor,” Josie says from behind me. “I know that this would be difficult for you, but they are one of the most powerful families in the Free Marches and well respected within Chantry circles. Their influence could…” 

I turn to her then, resting my back against the railing. “They do not want to see their daughter. They want to be seen with the Herald. I went home after Ostwick’s Circle fell. I begged them to take me in and they sent me away.” 

Josie’s look tells me I am being petty.

“I am not turning them away because they turned me away. I am turning them away because their motivations are false. They are grabbing at power. I know that is why most of the nobility will seek us out, but to have it done so blatantly by my own family… I can’t do it.”

“They have already sent money and supplies to Skyhold. They will not like being turned away after so many generous donations.”

I have to smile then. “And they won’t stop because I am their daughter and the Herald. How would it look if they pulled their support from someone sent by Andraste herself? Oh, they could claim that they don’t believe, but I am their daughter. If they deemed me a liar, it would only reflect badly on the family. I may have grown up in the Circle, but I remember how nobility works.”

She sighs, knowing I speak the truth. “Alright, but please consider hosting another noble family. It would do well for others to see what we have built here.”

“We do have a representative of the Amell family.” I nudge Josie’s side, but she frowns at my joke.

“Hawke doesn’t count. She may be nobility, but her influence only spreads as far as Kirkwall, and she is highly disliked in Starkhaven. Prince Vael’s doing, after the events of Kirkwall.”

“Alright, Josie. I will let you decide who we shall host, so long as it’s not my family.”

She seems pleased with this and turns to leave. 

I resume my seat at my desk and look over the many missives and reports awaiting my signature and approval. There is a request from Prince Vael, maybe we could host him, but Varric would not be happy about that. He had told me that after Anders actions, he sent more people in, to level Kirkwall. The Templars and guard there had been able to hold off the attack but more damage had been done to the city. It might even be that Cullen wouldn’t approve of Vael’s presence. 

There is also a letter from King Alistair requesting assistance. I am surprised to find his letter so informal. I had heard that he never wanted the position and loathed being nobility, but I would have assumed he would have fallen easier into the role by now. 

A knock sounds at my door. “Enter,” I say distractedly.

I am looking over a request from Orzammar when I feel someone’s hand on my arm. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Cullen whispers in my ear. 

“Hello, Commander.” I know he likes it when I use his title flirtatiously. 

He smiles and bends down to place a kiss on my lips. He takes in all of the papers strewn haphazardly across my desk but that is not what holds his attention. “Tea?” His eyebrows knit together as he picks up the cup and lifts it to his nose. The steam from the cup rises as he inhales.

“No. Just herbs. How would you feel about hosting Prince Vael here at Skyhold?” I turn to him, but he ignores my question.

“What are the herbs for? Are you sick?” He places an ungloved hand on my forehead, checking for a temperature.

The gesture is sweet, but I push his hand away. “I’m fine Cullen, they are merely… preventative. A precaution.” 

At his confused look I sigh, I hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with him. I didn’t know how he would take it. “So I don’t get pregnant.”

His eyebrows rise, and his eyes widen. “Oh,” is all he says before placing the cup on the desk and turning away from me. 

I rise from my chair, walking over to him and taking his hand in mine. He frowns at me, and I am now unsure if my hand in his is welcome. I don’t know what to say, but Cullen turns to me. 

“I know that you have many habits left over from the Circle and I know this is one of them, but do you not want children?”

I am taken aback; I had never considered that this was something Circle Mages did. Mages aren’t allowed to have children. It is a known fact. But the world is different now, I am seeing to that. I had only thought it wise to take precautions since I would be traveling and fighting. 

“Cullen, children have never been an option for me. You know this. I haven’t given the idea much thought. Dwelling on those things in the Circle just leads to heartache.” He turns from me again, and I can see in the set of his shoulders that I have said something wrong. 

“All of my beliefs, everything the Templars taught me, it all seems so… Unkind. Being with you has opened my eyes to many of the faults within the Order.” He turns to me then. “The fact that someone like you, who loves so deeply, so openly, has never considered having a family of her own. It breaks my heart.”

Whatever I had thought he would say, it certainly wasn’t that. “None of that matters right now. It’s not as if I can fight demons with a baby in my belly.” I walk over to my bed and sit on the edge. Could I be a mother? Did I want to be a mother? 

“It does matter.” He takes a seat next to me. “You now have the option. You can make that choice.” He takes my hand in his. I look into his amber eyes, searching for some hidden meaning behind his words, but find only compassion. 

“I don’t know. I think we will have to see what comes of the Inquisition before I can say I honestly want to have a baby. Can you imagine me sitting on the throne, giving out death sentences, or orders of imprisonment with a swollen belly?” I laugh nervously.

He smiles then, looking at my currently taut abdomen. “I could imagine you with child, yes. But you are right. While the Inquisition stands, we should not dwell on such things.”

It dawns on me then that Cullen had considered having children with me. The thought is frightening and exhilarating. This man, sitting next to me, wants a family. With me. This time I cannot hold back the words. They leave my mouth without thought or reservation. “You know I love you, right?”

The look he turns on me melts my heart. I don’t think I have ever seen him so open or vulnerable. “I love you, too.” 

He kisses me then, softly, tenderly. His hand caresses my face, fingers stroking my cheek.


	30. Before the Approach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff. A little smut.

Cullen couldn’t believe it. She loved him. He had nearly given up ever hearing those words from a woman. His sisters had said it many times, but this was different. He had pined for Katarina, he had lusted over other women, but Scarlett he had fallen head-over-heels for. He had wished to take her there on her bed, so wrapped up in the moment, but they were interrupted by a knock on her door. More reports and missives were piled onto her desk. It seemed the amount of paper on her oak desk rivaled his own. Yet, hers were more from nobility, requests for assistance outside military demands.

She regained her seat behind her desk and he was about to leave when she summoned him back. “Will you stay? Help me look over these?”

He had no desire to address any of the people inside those letters, but he couldn’t deny wanting to spend as much time with her as possible. He pulled over a stuffed chair from by the fire and took a seat across from her. 

They discussed who would be a good candidate for attending Skyhold, Scarlett remembering too late that she had already told Josephine she could decide that. She brought to Cullen’s attention that Sera had requested a show of arms in a small farming village just outside Val Royeaux. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea but went along anyway. They sat for hours discussing all matters related to the Inquisition. 

Before long, Scarlett’s stomach gave out a rumbling cry of disapproval. It was past lunchtime and her body was keen to let her know it. He always found this funny, because it never failed to shock her. She would always look to the complaining organ with a frown on her face as if telling it to shut up. 

“Did they never feed you in the Circle,” he asked, with a slight grumbling laugh.

“Of course they did. I have just been so active lately; it seems my body thinks I am starving it.” She frowned again as another, less dramatic rumble ran through her.

She called for the steward, asking her to bring a tray of meats and cheeses, adding at the last second a request for fruit. She turned to him when the steward left. “You would think that I don’t eat regularly, but I have been ravenous since this all began. At first, I thought there was something wrong with me, but Cassandra informed me that many trainees begin developing a huge appetite when their bodies aren’t accustomed to the exertion. I find it annoying.”

Cullen smiled, remembering his first month of training, and noting her statement to be correct. “Your body will get used to it. But I have to say, I find your appetite quite adorable. I have never seen a woman eat so much.”

She turned a glare on him then. “Are you making fun of me?”

He laughed and it brought a smile to her face. “Not at all.”

The steward arrived with the food and two plates. She sat a goblet for each of them on the desk and filled them before leaving to attend other duties. Scarlett made them both sandwiches, and to Cullen’s surprise, she compiled ingredients he had never thought should go on a sandwich. Ham, with soft brie and slices of apple, topped with grainy mustard. She then pulled grapes off of their vines, dividing them up between the plates. Even with something as simple as this, he found he enjoyed watching her do her best to take care of him. 

She slid his plate to the edge of the desk closest to him. He eyed the strange concoction for a moment, but then lifted it and sniffed it before turning back to her.

“It’s not poisoned.” She stated flatly. 

“Apple, on a sandwich?” He again sniffed the offending food, not sure if he could indulge her. He found the aroma, a mix of salty meat and sweet apple, blended with the sharp mustard an assault to his senses. 

“Oh, it’s good. Trust me.” She bit into her sandwich with fervor. A small moan escaping her lips as she crunched into the crisp apples. 

After she took her second bite and another look of pleasure crossed her face, he found there could be no harm in indulging her. He bit into the bread and found all of the ingredients seemed to balance each other. The salt of the pork, matched by the sweet of the apple. The mild brie offset by the sharp bite of the mustard. His eyebrows rose in appreciation. “Where did you learn this? You always seem to know what foods compliment each other, even when they don’t make sense.”

She shrugged. “When you have as much time in your hands as I did in the Circle, you find ways to entertain yourself. I’ve always loved to cook, and when you’ve made the same recipe a dozen times, you begin experimenting.”

That he could understand. There were many among the Templars who found ways to entertain themselves. Dicing and Wicked Grace being the main sources of entertainment. Then, there were others who gave into more carnal experimentations. He couldn’t recall how many times he’d had to track some of them back to the brothels or found them in trysts in alcoves along the parapets. Generally, those he found on the grounds he let be, but going into the brothels always set his nerves on edge.

When their meal was finished, he knew he had to leave. He had other matters to attend and the War Counsel would need to meet before she left for the Western Approach. He rose, walking to her and placing a kiss on her lips before exiting her chambers.

 

The week she took to rest and recover at Skyhold was spent with Cullen companionably. He was able to learn so many things about her. She told him of the night around the campfire ‘with the girls’, as she called it; how they had all tried to get her to see Cullen’s interest. He had blushed at that, not thinking he had been so obvious. She told him stories from her time at the Circle, which differed from any experiences he had. They discussed books. He liked history, while she liked just about anything she could get her hands on. Neither of them favored romances, but it never stopped them from reading them for curiosity’s sake. He learned that she liked flowers, but strongly scented ones tended to make her sneeze. She didn’t favor jewelry, though she would take kindly to a token given from the heart. During the day, he taught her how to play chess in their downtime, a favored past-time of his, and at night they would walk the battlements, taking in the chill of the night air. He learned that she liked the cold, that it cleared her mind and helped her to think, but she didn’t always like being cold. 

Cullen was quickly beginning to find that he could spend any amount of time with her and it would never be enough. During War Room meetings he would find himself any excuse to inch closer to her, his eyes always finding hers and a smile would come to both of their lips. He would seek her out across the crowded dining hall when she made her way to her other companions. He had even sat in on a discussion she had with Solas about Fade forces. It seemed that would be her next area of study, how to draw on the power of the mark. He didn’t understand half of what they talked about, but he was happy to be learning how some of her magic worked, outside of her using it on him. 

During that week, the pain in his body subsided. His appetite came back with a vengeance, to be matched only by Scarlett’s. His headaches were few and far between, and when they did come, Scarlett was quick to use her abilities, massaging his temples, resting her palm on the skin between his bracers and gloves, sometimes even pulling him in for a lingering kiss. The latter being his preferred method. 

He didn’t realize how much of her time he had been occupying until Varric pulled him aside a day before she was set to leave. 

“Hey Curly, I know you and Scar are all honeymooning, but you think you could let her slip away for the day and spend some time with the rest of us before she heads off? We haven’t got in a game of Wicked Grace since she’s been back and Sera, Dorian, and Ryder have all let themselves get in a funk about being abandoned.” Varric added a chuckle to keep his tone light.

“Honeymooning,” Cullen asked.

“Call it what you want but she’s been stuck to you tighter than Andraste’s knickers.” He shrugged like this was obvious. 

“She doesn’t need my permission to come hang out.”

Varric laughed heartily, “Wouldn’t that be a sight to see if she felt she did? Curly, I’m sure if she thought you would want her to ask, she’d blast you into next Tuesday. And with her powers, she might even succeed. No, all I’m asking is for your gentle nudge out the door.”

“You want me to kick her out, ask her to leave? You don’t think that will have the same result?” Cullen crossed his arms over his chest.

“I said, gently, Curly. Gently.” Varric shakes his head, thinking Cullen had missed his point, but he’d only been joking. 

 

“Your friends believe I have caused you to abandon them,” Cullen tells Scarlett as she makes her way through his office door. 

“What?” Scarlett gives him a startled look.

“In fact, Varric cornered me earlier and told me to kick you out so you’d go running to them.” The corner of his mouth quirks and all amount of seriousness leaves his face. She will at least see it for the joke it was meant to be earlier.

“Oh, hardy har. They can get over it. I will be spending a month with them and not you. I will be as selfish with my time as I like.” She crossed her arms, mimicking Cullen’s stance. 

“I know, but those not going with you will still feel slighted if you don’t spend time with them while you are here. Besides, I think I may have a way to meet you in the Approach.” At her raised eyebrow, Cullen continued, “There is a keep not far from where Hawke and Stroud want you to meet them, Griffon Wing. I can take a party down there to take the keep. We have reports of Venatori taking up residence and it is the perfect excuse to have my men meet you there.”

Scarlett agreed. The last time she had taken on a keep by herself it hadn’t gone so well and the back-up would be greatly appreciated. She strolled to the edge of the desk and placed her palms on the edge, lifting her feet off the floor as she leaned over for a kiss. She told him that while she would enjoy spending time with her companions, he had better believe the night before she left would be all his. He couldn’t help but smile and agree. 

 

She came to him the next night slightly intoxicated. It left a devilish sheen in her eye and brightened her cheeks to a becoming pink. The first few buttons of her top were undone and her hair was disheveled. To Cullen’s surprise, he found this to be a complete turn-on. Her slow languid movements reminded him of a jungle-cat. 

“Hello, handsome.” Her voice was a purr to match her movements.

His smiled, elbows resting on his desk, fingers peaked in front of his mouth. “Has someone been drinking?”

Her lower lips sank below her teeth for a moment, wetting her lips and causing the bulge in his pants to grow. “Maybe.”

Slowly, she makes her way around the desk and Cullen turns to face her. Bracing herself on the arms of the chair, she leans in and gives him a hungry kiss. He returns it, the familiar taste of brandy on her tongue. 

When she pulls away, she is already undoing the rest of the buttons on her shirt.

“Scarlett, we can’t. Not here. Anyone could walk through that door.” He tries to stand but she pushes him back down.

“Nope. I told Jim that if anyone walks through that door, they are getting blasted with a fireball.”

She removed her shirt, and Cullen was surprised to find she wasn’t wearing a breast band. He would wonder about that later, for now, Scarlett seemed intent on giving him quite the strip show. She began swaying her hips as she undid the laces of her trousers. Slowly, she worked the fabric down her hips and gave him a peek at her curls before lifting them back into place and repeating the motion. Then she turned and as she did, pushed the leggings down her legs until she was bent over and exposed to him. Cullen felt his cock twitch then, pressing into his smalls uncomfortably.

When she wiggled her bottom, enticing him to come to her, he couldn’t stop the growl that escaped this throat. He removed his breastplate, so it wouldn’t be in the way, but left everything else on, releasing only his hardened length. He stroked himself until he was rock hard and then placed his hands on the curves of her ass. He didn’t know what came over him, but he couldn’t stop his palm from smacking her taut bottom. When she hissed in a moan, he did it again. 

“Oh, naughty Commander. Maybe I should be the one spanking you.” She turned her head to look at him and the desire burning in the depths of her eyes had him forcing his fingers inside of her slick heat.

Her moans rose with every thrust of his fingers, his thumb finding her nub and rolling it in time with his thrusts. It wasn’t long before she was wet enough to take him and his desire was too strong to be gentle. He shoved his length into her, her still tight core gripping him, but slick enough that he was able to pound into her again. His fingers dug into her hips and he used the strength in his arms to force her to fuck him. She had little control in this position. She screamed and gripped his wrists, holding on to keep her body steady. 

Strong as he was he could only keep this up for so long and when his movements began to slow Scarlett stood, forcing his cock to leave her body. She turned, placing her palms on his chest and walked him back to his chair. He fell into it when his knees hit the edge and she smirked, again turning from him. 

Reaching around, she gripped the base of his cock as she lined it up with her entrance. Her wet heat slid over him and he brought his hands around to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. 

When she found her rhythm, Cullen pressed his face into her back. His teeth bit into her shoulder as she bounced in his lap, lifting and coming down hard. Keeping one hand on her breast he slid the other down to her swollen clit, rolling it between his fingers as he was her pert nipple. This brought a sound from her he’d never heard before but hoped he could duplicate again and again. 

She clenched around him, her body losing its motion and he brought his hands back to her hips, steadying her, lifting and releasing her. When she came he lifted her a few inches from his body and fucked her. He pumped hard making her orgasm stretch longer than it should. When he finally came, she collapsed into him. 

He nuzzled her neck for a while before he asked if she was ready for bed. She said yes, but glared at the ladder in front of her. 

“You really need better sleeping quarters,” she grumbled before shakily climbing the ladder to his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't been posting. I have a confession to make. There is an Aloy story burning to come out and it is all I can think about. I had to force myself to sit and write this. Hope it was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Much more to come!!


End file.
